


Safe Word

by bealovelylady



Series: First Times (SouMako fics) [4]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Anal Beads, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cock Rings, Collars, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, I think that’s all?, Large Cock, Lingerie, M/M, Office Blow Jobs, Office Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panties, Public Humiliation, Public Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bealovelylady/pseuds/bealovelylady
Summary: “If we just linger here, we’ll definitely catch a glimpse of him,” she hushed over the percolating of the coffee machine. She stood close to him and smiled at him. “I hope he’s a catch and not one of those boring, do-everything-by-the-books guys.”Makoto just nibbled at his lip. He was beginning to think they’d soon have to make an awkward trek back to their cubicles when the whole office fell into silence.“He’s here,” hushed Gou like her senses were tingling. She took Makoto’s hand in hers and pulled him to the door of the break room, but Makoto had already spotted the man.And fuck, hewashandsome. Really, really, unbelievably handsome.And beside him, Gou was practically glowing. She was clenching his hand tightly and maybe it was the only thing grounding him to earth.He vaguely remembered he was holding a mug in his hand, but that knowledge did him no good. He let out the smallest gasp and his hand released when gorgeous teal eyes traveled over his face. He had a split second to realize what was happening, and he looked down with horror just in time to see his mug shatter on the tile floor.





	Safe Word

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this. I feel like I’m meh at writing bdsm type stuff, but I’m fairly happy with how this one turned out so ^~^

The office was abuzz with activity, but Makoto minded his own business in his tiny, little cubicle. He’d been with the company for years and he was still just a low-level paper pusher, but he got good pay and full benefits, so he couldn’t complain. He was also not the type to complain anyways, so he quietly does his job and speaks to maybe two people and goes home. There was nothing remarkable about him, nothing that anyone knew of, at least. 

But today he couldn’t help but keep his ear peeled to what the commotion was about. Beside him, his desk mates chattered loudly. There was a new boss in town, apparently. The old boss had recently retired, sticking around only long enough to ensure that his loins were definitely barren, and finally giving the company to his nephew. And according to the two girls next to Makoto, he was _fine_.

Gou’s voice carried over the division between her office and Makoto’s, as she excitedly spoke to her office mate. They giggled together and spoke in hushed whispers, but that wasn’t saying much for Gou. When she rolled her office chair back and he heard her soft heels clack, he knew where she was going. She came around the division and practically sidled into his cubicle, leaning her hips against the edge of his desk and smiling at him. 

“Have you heard?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. The whole office had heard by now. And then with a sparkle in her eye, she whispered, “Wanna go see? He’s doing a tour of the offices.”

Makoto glanced up at her and smiled. “Thanks for the invite, but I’ve got a lot of paperwork to worry about.”

Gou frowned and leaned in closer, pressing her hand against his shoulder and slowly massaging his tight knots with her fingertips. Makoto turned his head sharply away and preened into his other shoulder, going a little weak in the hips.

But then she pulled away, and he was left dazed. She grabbed his arm and hauled him up, and the two walked towards the break room, Gou smiling in her easy victory. Gou was the only one who knew, after all. About his secrets, his weaknesses. They’d been friends for ages and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was gay, he’d have married the fuck out of her. And Gou understood that all too well. She liked to tease him with it, like the shoulder massage just earlier. She knew, and so she had him by the scruff of his neck, and could take him anywhere she wanted. 

Yep, he’d marry her so fast if he was straight.

They walked arm in arm towards the small break room on their floor, and Gou made him a cup of coffee. She was absolutely gorgeous, of course, her deep red hair always silky and styled perfectly, her make up minimal but just right, and she always smelled really good. 

Gou had sniffed him out the moment she’d met him, like she had a nose just for weak gay boys. She’d coddled him and taught him the ways of wooing a man, and while he’d rarely put it into practice, it always worked. But it had always been her pointing out partners for him, never Makoto taking the first step. He was too young, he thought, to be so brazen in knowing exactly what he wanted, but the truth was that he knew very well what he liked. He’d liked the same thing all of his life, and Gou knew his type all too well, though she’d never found that _perfect_ guy for him. 

“If we just linger here, we’ll definitely catch a glimpse of him,” she hushed over the percolating of the coffee machine. She stood close to him and smiled at him. “I hope he’s a catch and not one of those boring, do-everything-by-the-books guys.”

Makoto just nibbled at his lip. The break room had an open door and a perfect view of the front door to their offices. They were located on the fifth floor, seven floors down from the big boss’s office, and above them and below them were only more and more offices with cubicles and workers just like him and Gou. He wasn’t even sure how they could know exactly when he’d show up, but the ladies in the office had a keen sense for these things.

He was beginning to think they’d soon have to make an awkward trek back to their cubicles when the whole office fell into silence, and that was quite a feat. A phone rang somewhere far away, but for the rest it was still. 

“He’s here,” hushed Gou like her senses were tingling. She took Makoto’s hand in hers and pulled him to the door of the break room, but Makoto had already spotted the man. 

And fuck, he _was_ handsome. Really, really, unbelievably handsome. His black hair was slicked back perfectly and all of his facial features were symmetrical. He was tall and built, wearing a suit, and damn, he wore it well. It was one of those suits that you see in magazines or fashion shoots and you wonder how a suit can look just as erotic as a piece of lingerie on a man. Makoto fiddled awkwardly with his own suit; it fit him nicely, but it was nothing like the allure that seeped off of this man. 

And beside him, Gou was practically glowing. She was clenching his hand tightly and maybe it wasthe only thing grounding him to earth. 

Next to the man was a nervous looking assistant, her mouth rattling off like it was just her nerves keeping up the conversation, but soon the tall man was surrounded by a few dozen women, and the assistant looked blessedly relieved to be ignored and shut out. 

Suddenly the office was loud again, all the women’s voices rising as they squeaked and giggled and begged for attention. But the man only looked at them with a hint of disregard that was chilling to behold. If the women noticed, they kept clamoring on anyways, trying way too hard in Makoto’s and apparently also the tall man’s opinion. Makoto shivered as he watched the new boss, frozen, riveted. 

He vaguely remembered he was holding a mug in his hand, but that knowledge did him no good as the man’s eyes swept closer to where he stood with Gou. He let out the smallest gasp and his hand released when gorgeous teal eyes traveled over his face, not stopping, bored as ever. He had a split second to realize what was happening, and he looked down with horror just in time to see his mug shatter on the tile floor. 

There was a moment of pause, and then Gou squeezed his hand so tight that he had to look up and see what was the matter with her. Her eyes were wide, so wide, and she’d gotten this look on her face like she’d just seen the perfect specimen. But it wasn’t love like it was with these other women, who had stars in their eyes. No, it was that look one gets when they’d been searching forever for the perfect gift for someone and then they _find it_. Gou had found it, whatever it was, and she slowly swiveled her head to meet Makoto’s gaze. She had a smile on her face that Makoto had never seen before, but now he felt eyes on him from somewhere else.

And fuck, they were intense. Time seemed to slow. He turned his head again like he was underwater. The first thing he saw was that most beautiful teal again, vibrant eyes amidst the drab blacks and greys of the office. He was transfixed. Slowly he registered the perfect features and the gaze directed right at him, and finally, when he’d realized who it is that was watching him, he noticed the tiniest lift at the corner of perfect lips. He blinked and the man was turned away again, and Makoto thought he’d simply imagined it all. 

But Gou had a death grip on his hand and he couldn’t breathe, and he watched heart broken as the man turned swiftly back to the door and stalked out, not even bothered by the gaggle of women who crooned and pleaded after him. 

When he was gone and the office settled again with disheartened murmurs and quiet gossip, Gou let out a long breath and whispered, “Fuck.” She glanced back at Makoto and giggled, like she knew something he could barely understand. 

He couldn’t even wrap his head around what had just happened. 

x

His phone rang and Makoto nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d been on edge since the morning, since the boss’s visit, and he didn’t really know why. For the first time since starting the company, he itched to not be locked behind his desk. 

He quickly grabbed the phone off its cradle and pressed it breathlessly to his ear. “Yes, hello?” he choked out.

“Tachibana Makoto?” said a voice he didn’t recognize, and he glanced around to see if someone was playing a prank on him. 

“Who is this?”

“The boss wants to see you in his office. Stat.”

The click of the other end sounded and Makoto just sat there, dumbfounded. Now he knew it was just a prank. He let loose a wide-eyed giggle. He felt the sudden urge to clean the break room again.

Gou tapped on the division between them and her eyebrow tilted up. “What’s wrong, boo?”

Makoto tried to laugh it off as he said in a mocking tone, “The boss wants to see me.”

Gou seemed to nearly jump out of her skin at his words, though; she leaned forward and yelped quietly, “What are you still doing here?!”

“It was obviously a prank,” he said with a confused frown, watching his office mate warily with green eyes. 

But Gou wasn’t listening as she pulled him out of his desk chair and pushed him towards the elevators. Once there, she hushed him. “I’ll bet my new favorite jeans that it’s not a prank,” she told him with the most serious look in her eyes. 

“Wha-?”

He couldn’t even get his one word out; she pushed him into the elevator and was telling him to go kill it and, “Just be yourself, remember what I taught you,” as he blinked at her like she’d gone insane. “Gou-!”

The door shut on his voice and Makoto stood bewildered, more confused than anything. But he couldn’t just walk back out of the elevator, so he reluctantly pressed the button for the twelfth floor, praying that if it was a prank, the fall-out wouldn’t damage him irreparably from the embarrassment. He stood in nervous silence, hands clenched together to keep the shaking at bay, praying for once in his life to be brave.

x

A small woman sat at a desk twenty-five feet away from the elevator door; he recognized her as the flustered assistant who’d been guiding the boss on his tour. She looked a lot calmer now; her eyes looked up the moment the elevator doors opened on a nervous-wreck Makoto. They shared a silent look and he blinked at her, already turning red, debating just pressing the button to go back down again, offering something like, “Wrong floor, haha~!” But she beckoned him forward with a soft smile and slim fingers as she stepped out from behind her desk. She had short brown hair and a cute outfit on, and her smile seemed genuine.

“Tachibana-kun?” she asked in a quiet voice, almost like there was something she didn’t want to disturb. She stepped up close to him and shook his hand, while he fumbled over his own name.

“M-Makoto, just call me Makoto.”

She grinned at him like she knew a secret he was not clued in on, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “My name is Amakata Miho; just Miho is fine.” Her hair bobbed as she looked up at him, her smile seeming kinder now. He tried to convince himself it was just the lighting as he swallowed harshly. His eyes swept to the beautiful wooden behind her desk for a distraction, though it only proved to be more nerve-wracking when she said, “The big boss wants to see you.”

“Why me?” he croaked out before he could think, but she simply looked at him and grinned, leaving him with only more questions. Without her boss, she seemed her own force of nature to be reckoned with. 

“Don’t be nervous,” was all she told him finally as she led him forward. He glanced down in incredulity, but she was smiling sweetly at him and patting at his arm encouragingly. He took a moment to collect himself. The nerves pooled strangely in his stomach and made his heart race in something akin to an adrenaline rush. 

She knocked on the wooden door before them, which was a beautiful deep brown color, the sound reverberating telling of just how heavy they were. It took a moment for there to be a response. Behind them, the intercom on the phone crackled and a deep voice said, annoyed, “Get in here.”

She ducked her head down but Makoto doesn’t miss the nervous smile on her face as she pushed the door open. She waved him inside with a wink, careful to keep out of sight. That didn’t bode well for him, he thought in a daze.

Silence surrounded him after the door gave a definitive click against his back, and he felt very suddenly all alone. Now it was just him and whoever was sitting at the end of the room, the one with the deep voice that still made him shiver. In hind sight, he should have looked at who sat behind the giant desk in the middle of the room, but he was too busy staring in shock at the floor behind him, at the sliver of light under the closed door. 

He didn’t move an inch until someone impatiently cleared their throat, and finally he woodenly turned forward, eyes wide on the hardwood floors below him. A chair squeaked softly, even that sounding impatient, and he begged his legs to carry him forward.

The hardwood gave way to an old-style area rug; he stopped a few steps in and glanced up just enough to see the edge of a huge mahogany desk. Silence settled around him like an uncomfortable yoke.

He startled nearly out of his skin when a voice asked him, “Isn’t this room so stuffy?”

His head jerked towards the sound and he saw a pair of shiny, pointed dress shoes standing on the rug a few feet away from him. 

“I’m going to redecorate this whole thing. It makes me feel old to even work in here.”

Makoto was mesmerized and stunned. The voice that came from the body the pair of shoes stood in was smooth, commanding, but the words he said seemed to not match the mood in Makoto’s head, the words he’d imagined before coming in. Instead, the man was talking about the interior decorations. 

The most devastating and distracting of all, though, was that it all sounded like a sexual invitation with the deep bass notes his voice carried. Makoto’s whole body went red with embarrassment for even thinking this of a man who might be getting ready to fire him any second. He didn’t even know what he could have done to deserve being canned, but he was afraid.

Then the silence came again, and Makoto felt like a statue, his heart the only thing moving. 

Electricity ran down his spine when that smooth, velvet voice commanded, “Look at me.”

There was no room for disobedience, and Makoto’s eyes snapped up long legs, a broad torso with thick arms, a thick neck, and then, god... Makoto’s heart choked its way out of his throat. 

Eyes the color of the sea but fierce like the ocean during a storm, lips set firmly, chiseled jawline and cheekbones, smooth skin: the most handsome man Makoto had ever laid eyes on stood before him, commanding his attention with his whole being. Makoto felt obligated, no, desperate, to obey. 

He’d been a sight to see from far away, but now he stood close enough for Makoto to see there were zero wrinkles on his face, his skin flawless, his lips beautiful, and he was sure he’d forgotten how to breathe. 

His heart slowly forced its way back into his chest, but all the color had drained to his cheeks and groin and he didn’t even know why he was so damn horny all of a sudden. Except for the fact that this man’s eyes on him seemed to be enough to bring him to orgasm. 

He should be ashamed, he thought mildly, but the thought was quickly robbed away with every other one, and he stood there staring blankly at the man before him. 

He let out a short sound, a half laugh, like a realization, and Makoto thought he’d never before met anyone who sounded and looked so much like a mythological god.

“Tachibana Makoto, huh?”

Green eyes went wide as he stared into the man’s face, nodding stiffly once he remembered that, yes, that was his name. Makoto thought he should at the very least scrape his jaw off the floor, but he was in such a state of disbelief and euphoria that he doubted he could manage even that, so he just stared in wonder at the miracle before him, chills rolling down his spine over and over, his gut rolling with nervous anticipation, like one might get before a first kiss. 

A hand so big he knew it could hold his own whole lifted upward and the gorgeous man introduced himself for the very first time. “I’m Yamazaki Sousuke, and I’ll be your new boss starting today.”

 _Oh, fuck me_ , was Makoto’s last intelligible thought as he reached forward and took Yamazaki’s extended hand for a handshake, and yeah, his hand looked so tiny in comparison. He wrapped his long, thin fingers around a thick palm and melted. His last thought turned more into a silent plea; he could barely meet Yamazaki’s eyes knowing how filthy his thought were, sure the other man could see right through to his soul. 

Yamazaki walked his big, tall body towards the front of his desk and leaned back against it. Makoto himself had always been the tallest of all the people he’d known, but Yamazaki seemed to be on a different level, whether it was just because his bulk was so imposing or he was actually a lot taller than Makoto. Either way, it was causing Makoto’s whole body to go haywire with wild fantasies, and he couldn’t seem to tamp them down at all, his will resting in peace on the floor at his feet. 

“So. Doesn’t this whole room make me look stuffy as hell?”

Makoto hadn’t expected those words, hadn’t expected the small, knowing smile tugging ever so slightly at those gorgeous lips. Makoto bit at his own and used the words as an excuse to look around the office. He took in the tall wooden bookcases stuffed with hardcover books, the heavy burgundy draped covering the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the whole back wall of the office, and the over-all feel of old businessman. And he nodded, looking back at his boss. Yamazaki was like a diamond hidden under the wreck of the Titanic, discovered under ocean grime and a style from decades past. 

“I’m thinking black leather, silver, metal.” Yamazaki kept speaking, and if it wasn’t for his voice, Makoto would understand that this conversation wasn’t all laced with sexual desire, but he couldn’t hear past that alluring voice at all. He pictured very different things than desks and office furniture.

He nodded even as his whole body flushed red, and he wished he was any kind of different person to not be so disgustingly turned on by the man before him, but if Yamazaki noticed his perversions, he didn’t acknowledge them, which was Makoto’s only solace. He clasped his hands and pressed them to the front of his slacks and prayed his body to not be so obvious.

After another long silence, Makoto still awkwardly looking around the room like it was his only job, Yamazaki stood up again and moved closer. His voice dropped a few notes, if that was even possible, and he said quietly, “Well, I didn’t call you up here for decorating advice.”

Makoto’s eyes snapped to Yamazaki’s aqua and he realized suddenly how close this man really was. He let out an undignified squeak and burned red; Yamazaki seemed to be memorizing every detail of his face as his eyes slowly roamed over Makoto’s face, never relenting on that control the man had over him. Makoto didn’t know whether he hated it or was madly in love with the feeling. His knees shook softly.

“Why, then- why did you call me up here?” Makoto choked out before remembering to add a breathy, “Sir.” Even just speaking to this man was leaving him breathless and he wished it didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. 

Yamazaki was still looking Makoto over, still letting his eyes wander slowly. He seemed uninterested in answering for a while, completely content to just look. 

“I need an assistant,” he said finally, and it was like he’d already decided the job for Makoto. There was no question of did Makoto want the job or was he even skilled to do it, it was a command from a man who got his way in everything. And while Makoto had a million questions, he couldn’t think of a single objection. 

But it seemed Yamazaki did have one question after all, though Makoto was fairly sure it didn’t fall under normal interview procedures. He certainly never could have prepared himself for it.

“Are you gay, Makoto?”

Makoto watched his soul leave his body. He went white as a sheet and choked on what might be words. 

“N-no-!” He felt like he was spitting on the man’s shoes. “No, sir-!”

Aqua eyes drilled into his very core. There was a power step forward and suddenly Makoto was breathing in Yamazaki’s scent, the aura of a dominant man, and he wondered if he’d just cum. His knees shook wildly and he was just about to sink to the floor when a thick finger caught the back loop of his dress pants and held him aloft by the seat of his pants. Makoto barely held back a wild cry of lust as the area of his pants around his groin pressed tight against him and he realized he was actually hard. His hands flew apart and waved wildly in the air around his hips, unsure of where to go.

“Makoto,” Yamazaki said again, staring still into him, and Makoto knew this man would drag his deepest secrets out of him whole. “You’re gay. Aren’t you?” 

It wasn’t a question anymore, but Makoto still answered. It was a breathless thing this time, an admitting of defeat. Even if it meant kissing the new job goodbye, he couldn’t lie anymore. 

“Y-yes, yes, sir. I am.” He released a long, heated breath as he stared straight at Yamazaki’s chest and whispered, “Sorry, sir.”

What he didn’t expect was the hand grabbing a whole butt cheek of his and being bodily pulled over a folded leg. Yamazaki pulled him so close that Makoto’s heavy balls rested against his warm thigh and he let out an undignified little moan. Heat washed over his ear and Yamazaki spoke directly into it in a voice like thick, melted caramel. 

“Good, Makoto. I knew you’d be the perfect man for the job,” like they hadn’t just discussed Makoto’s sexual orientation, like Makoto didn’t have his boss’s leg pressed between his thighs. Like they weren’t both absolutely aware of Makoto’s raging boner. 

Makoto clenched his hands as the strongest desire gripped him to fist at Yamazaki’s shirt. But the small, submissive voice in his head whispered softly, “Don’t wrinkle his shirt.”

A curled finger pressed at the corner of his jaw by his ear and slowly ran towards his chin, pushing Makoto’s face up, until he had no choice but to look at Yamazaki. His eyes watered; his boss’s face revealed nothing at all. 

“It’s more of an errand boy’s job,” Yamazaki said suddenly, his eyes piercing. He shifted against the desk and squeezed at Makoto’s ass like he didn’t mean it as the sexual act it was, but just a flexing of his hand. 

His thigh shifted between Makoto’s legs and he squeaked out, “Sir?”

He wondered when he’d snap out of this wild fantasy and find himself fired from his job with a wet spot on his trousers. But Yamazaki was warm against him, and the hand on his ass was strong and real. His musky scent awoke Makoto’s every sense and he knew, he knew he couldn’t be dreaming, but how the fuck was this actually happening?

Yamazaki leaned in close again and whispered, low, sexy, “You’ll practically be my slave boy.”

Then he pulled back and said in the most professional voice like he hadn’t just nearly brought Makoto to orgasm, “How does that sound, Tachibana-kun?”

And Makoto had only one choice as he breathed out, “Yes, sir. Thank you very much.”

He clenched his fists and begged his body not to sink against Yamazaki’s, as much as he wanted that man to hold him, handle him rough, fuck him against that damn desk that was nothing but a fucking power statement. 

Everything about the office screamed “I’m the boss and you’re my bitch,” but there was something old and stuffy about it that was choking, and not in a pleasant way. Makoto was suddenly desperate to see what Yamazaki’s vision for his office was. He wanted to see what kind of boss Yamazaki wanted to be to him. He shook in his shoes just thinking of it. He breathed in another deep inhale of Yamazaki’s musk. 

Then, too suddenly, Yamazaki pulled away and Makoto barely remained standing from the sudden loss of support. The man moved back around his desk and sat in the imposing chair, legs folded and hands clasped together under his chin. He simply watched Makoto with eyes like he’d eat Makoto for a pre-dinner snack in a heart beat. 

“Report back here tomorrow at 8:39 am sharp. Pack your desk today and go home.”

Makoto could only nod his head and walk out on jello legs. His house called to him for a long shower and a lot of masturbation.

x

“You’re late.”

The words were more of a growl than anything else, and Makoto shook in his shoes. He’d barely slept last night, something between high key nerves and some kind of rowdy anticipation. 

He glanced at the new digital clock on his boss’s desk. 8:41.

“S-so sorry,” he stuttered our painfully. He stepped to the side as his knees wobbled and his thigh slammed into something. His head snapped around so fast it nearly gave him whiplash; he stared down at the desk next to him, a brand new thing. On it sat a small nameplate giving his name. 

Then he looked around the entire office with wide eyes. Everything had changed. The gaudy rug had been replaced with a grey shag carpet thing, and atop it sat a huge, black desk with shiny silver legs. A new computer sat on the desk, too, along with a few file organizers and other necessities, all in shiny chrome. Heavy black curtains hung on either side of the tall windows that made up the back wall of the office, and just in front hung a fancy silver and black light fixture. The lamp cast a halo of light over the desk and the chair behind it, like it was the main focal point of the office and the only thing that mattered. His new desk, in comparison, sat off in the corner and had only a floor lamp looming over it. He couldn’t disagree, though, as it sparked a shaky smile on his face. 

Leather squeaked as Yamazaki shifted, and finally Makoto braved a look to take him in. The chair he sat in was huge, making him look only bigger. It was all leather and really impressive, and as Makoto took in the office as a whole, a chill ran up his spine. 

He knew exactly what this reminded him of, and he doubted it was a coincidence. Leather, silver, rope. He clutched his hands together and tried to maintain his features, though his normal look was already “deer in the headlights”.

Yamazaki wasn’t even looking at him anymore, but Makoto still trembled as the man beckoned him forward with two fingers. He shuffled over the hardwood until he was at the corner of Yamazaki’s desk. 

A large hand slid a box to him, and he carefully took it after teal eyes glanced sideways at him, annoyed. 

“Open it,” ordered Yamazaki, still not looking at Makoto, but his presence was enough to have Makoto weak in the knees. It wasn’t all fear either, or at least not the bad kind of fear, Makoto realized with a start. With trembling hands he opened the box, and nearly dropped it entirely. 

Finally teal eyes drifted up to his face and Yamazaki turned in his chair, leaning back, hands pressed together under his chin. Makoto, despite it all, was feeling stirrings in his gut that he didn’t want to experience, not at work. Was this man doing it on purpose? Was it all a game? The present in Makoto’s hand should have clued him in, but he just didn’t understand _why_. Why him? 

“I don’t concede tardiness,” Yamazaki finally spoke up, and Makoto felt his eyes almost magnetize to his boss’s, even as looking at him scared him shitless. 

“I don’t understand,” he squeaked finally.

Yamazaki was absolutely still for a few heart beats. Then he slowly rose to his full height and stepped towards Makoto, who stumbled back, Yamazaki easily closing the space again. 

Teal eyes shifted down to the gift Makoto held in his hands, and for a moment his features went a little soft. Then he pressed his lips together and said, firmly, “Let’s be clear. You can say no at any time and I can send you back to your old job.”

Makoto’s eyes went wide.

“That’s how these things work. You know that, right?” Yamazaki looked at him now like he was suddenly worried Makoto didn’t know, a hand coming up to caress a finger over his heated cheek.

But Makoto knew. He understood now. This was all on purpose. Yamazaki was very serious about this. 

The large hand at his face lowered and hovered over Makoto’s. Thick fingers picked up the item from the box and Makoto shivered. 

Yamazaki was waiting for him to back out, maybe, but Makoto knew there was no possible way he could. He’d been hooked from the moment he stepped inside this office, no, from the moment they’d locked eyes, and Makoto knew now that the trembling in his legs was not fear but great anticipation. He let out a slow, heated breath, and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

Yamazaki held up the vibrating butt plug then with one hand and smirked, eyes going dark with lusty command. Makoto whimpered as he ordered, “Then go put this in and enjoy your punishment.”

Makoto took the plug with shaky hands and he was about to nod and turn away when Yamazaki swooped down and pulled him roughly against his chest. Makoto yelped and splayed his hands out, melting instantly when his hands and chest came in contact with solid muscle. 

“I knew from the moment I saw you that you’d be such a good boy.”

That voice was like warm chocolate coating over his bare skin, like sex in sound waves. Makoto whimpered and shook. In his pants, his cock grew hot. Desire to be controlled spilled heavy from his gut. If anyone else saw him now, he’d never live, but this was his truest dream come true, wasn’t it? This was everything he’d never even hoped for. This was perfection. In the back of his mind he could see Gou smirking at him, telling him, “Just be yourself.”

He knew what this road would lead him down, knew how absolutely hard he would fall for this man who was simply using him as stress relief, but he didn’t even care. Yamazaki could beat him down, stretch him out, wring him out, and Makoto would crawl back for more. 

“What’s my safe word?” he whimpered up into Yamazaki’s ear. He couldn’t see anything, but he could smell the man perfectly well, hear his steady heart beat. Everything about him exuded power and control and Makoto was weak. 

“Pick one,” said Yamazaki. “I’ll make sure you never even think of using it, though.”

A hand slid down to Makoto’s ass and squeezed there, pulled Makoto in tightly against something large and hard in his pants. Makoto couldn’t breathe. 

“Cucumber,” he whispered mindlessly, and he was rewarded with a heavy, pleased chuckle from Yamazaki, the sound curling up his spine and making him shiver. 

“Now, go,” ordered Yamazaki as he pulled away, turned back to his desk like it wasn’t any worry of his. Makoto stumbled out of the office and to the bathroom. He didn’t feel like he could fully breathe until he locked the door of the stall behind him. Then he unclenched his hands and looked at the small, sleek black thing. It had an end like a half moon, the bulb from that starting small and quickly widening into something the size of a golf ball, before slimming back down into a soft point. There was a small tube of lube with it, and Makoto swallowed slowly. 

He’d used toys before, but it was never satisfying if it was just him choosing to use them. But now, now it wasn’t even a choice. Now it was an order from his boss... from his master. Makoto let out a rough laugh, eyes rimming with tears. He felt that tightness in his chest again, felt an ache in the pit of his stomach. With one hand, he unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down. Then he closed the toilet lid and shuffled onto it on his knees, ass up. Trembling hands and teeth struggled to open the lube and lather his fingers with it, and he couldn’t help the squeaky moan that escaped when he slid his fingers inside. 

He thought of Yamazaki, thought of him watching Makoto prepare himself. He could almost hear the disapproving click as Makoto moved slow, trying to stretch himself out. There was a burn of shame even just imagining it, and he mewled out an apology as he pressed the vibrator to his asshole. With one gulp of air in, he slid the thing in whole. His breath came out in a rush of a choked cry, and he sank against the toilet tank, shivering weakly. 

Then, with barely any strength, he wiped the extra lube away and pulled up his boxer briefs and then his pants. It felt awkward to walk with what was essentially a golf ball up his ass, but he kept his back straight as he walked past Miho’s desk and back into Yamazaki’s office. She gave a glance upwards at him but he kept his eyes glued to his destination. He quietly shut the door and breathed out softly against it. 

The office around him was silent. He wondered if Yamazaki had stepped out, but then he heard a foot step out onto hardwood. 

“Makoto,” called that beautifully heavy, low voice, and Makoto nodded against the door. He should turn around, he thought mildly, but suddenly the bulb in his ass came alive, and he slapped a hand over his mouth as he screamed into his palm, knees going weak as he sank down to the floor. The door was the only thing holding him up anymore.

“Stand,” commanded Yamazaki; Makoto nodded weakly and shuffled up straight. Every movement caused the thing to shift in his ass and the vibrations made it hard to remain upright. All he wanted to do was curl up on the floor and moan out his pleasure, but he couldn’t do that, not for his master. 

“Face me.”

Makoto let out a rush of heated air and clutched at the door handle. Slowly he turned, still using the door for support as he peeked out of the corner of his eyes at Yamazaki. The man had his arms crossed, a small remote in his left hand, and he was waiting. 

His whole body seemed to say, “Don’t make me say it,” and Makoto nodded again, a short, stiff thing. He shuffled to fully face the man, letting regretfully go of the door. 

And step by shaky step, he made his way across the office to where Yamazaki stood. He fixed his eyes squarely on the man’s unfairly large chest, watched as his chest slowly rose and fell, could imagine his steady heart beat like nothing could make him excited. 

Makoto bit at his lip. That cool, calm demeanor was exactly what he craved, but quietly he wondered if he could get Yamazaki’s heart to pound for him. He glanced up just enough to see the man’s thick neck, stopping there. The air was quiet and tense around them, but Yamazaki did nothing to break it.

Then suddenly hands came around his hips and down his ass, Yamazaki roughly pulling his cheeks apart in his slacks. He pressed two fingers over the cordless end of the vibrator that was nestled between Makoto’s cheeks. The device shifted and Makoto crooned, reaching up on instinct to clutch at Yamazaki’s shirt. 

“Good,” murmured Yamazaki low. “The day ends when I finish all of my work. The better you work today, the faster you can take it out.”

Makoto’s whole face went pale. He could barely stand, barely think, and he was expected to work with this thing up his ass? He sank in defeat and suddenly the vibrator bumped up a speed. Makoto contorted against Yamazaki and let out a high sound. 

“If you make mistakes, you’ll do the work all over again. If you take too long, I’ll turn the speed up.”

Yamazaki’s breath was hot over Makoto’s ear. “Do you understand?”

“Yes-!” Makoto squeaked again as fingers pressed the vibrator in deeper. “Yes, sir-!”

And then Yamazaki chuckled warmly and cooed, “Good boy, Makoto.”

Makoto tightened his fist on Yamazaki’s shirt and mewled back at him. His head swam with fantasies he’d tried to never entertain before. Oh, he couldn’t wait for this man to slowly ruin him, pull him apart like slow-roasted meat. He craved it. 

Yamazaki pulled away and moved back to his desk, not another glance at Makoto, and he was left to stumble to his own chair. Sitting was almost harder, as the bulb pressed deep up inside him, almost reaching something forbidden. Makoto had to lay over his desk for a moment as he tried to collect himself.

A pile of paperwork slammed down next to his head. He looked up with a jerk and found Yamazaki standing above him, smiling a smug little thing. Makoto slowly pushed himself up and stared at the papers before him. 

Then Yamazaki leaned down to his ear and purred, “Be a good boy and work hard, okay?”

And Makoto had no choice but to obey, sitting on the edge of absolutely loving this and wanting to escape this hell. He swallowed hard and slowly set to work.

x

Makoto wasn’t sure how he survived. The vibrator in his butt was at times grating and sometimes so pleasurable that he had to bite down on his fist not to cum at his desk. Every time Yamazaki’s secretary came in, his heart would jump out of his chest as he worried whether she knew or not. But if she did, she didn’t show it. 

Makoto watched 6o’clock come around on his clock, the last of the paperwork finally done, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Under him, the vibrator shut off. It still sat awkwardly full in him, but now he could relax against his chair. He closed his eyes.

He relaxed until a shadow fell over him and his eyes jerked wide open. The lighting in the office seemed dimmer than before, and Makoto blinked awkwardly up at the dark figure above him. It could only be one person, but his brain wasn’t entirely sure until Yamazaki leaned down over him and unceremoniously pressed his whole hand over Makoto’s painful erection. It had come and gone all day, but now it was revived with full force. 

“Were you good?” Yamazaki whispered heatedly into Makoto’s ear. His whole body jerked upward, but Yamazaki didn’t let go of his cock and balls, so with a pained whimper, he slid back in his chair, his butt to the back corner. Yamazaki leaned heavy over him, but the only part of them touching was that huge hand on his crotch. He didn’t know how to feel; he loved it and hated it. His cock betrayed him and spasmed against Yamazaki’s warm hard. He could practically feel the satisfied smirk above him. 

And then Yamazaki breathed out in a mocking tone, “Good boy,” and Makoto never even saw it coming. 

A wave of intense pleasure shot through him as the vibrator kicked back on, and when Yamazaki rolled his hand, there was a loud and definitive _squish_ that could be heard. Makoto’s head jerked to the side and he saw Yamazaki’s whole face light up with the proudest smirk. His eyes were dark and knowing on Makoto, and Makoto felt incredibly weak and small. 

“Really?” Yamazaki asked with a click of his tongue. It was a rhetorical statement. A button clicked and the vibrate shut off again. Makoto whimpered and looked down at his offending member. It grew soft in his now-ruined underwear. 

Yamazaki stepped back and away from Makoto. He walked back and then turned, leaning his ass against his desk, arms and ankles crossed, watching. The look in his eyes alone sent Makoto’s head in a tail spin. 

“Come here,” he commanded, and Makoto shook, the chair rattling beneath him with the violence of it.

“No,” he whimpered meekly before he could stop himself. Bad choice. Yamazaki’s eyes flashed in the dimly lit room, the backdrop of the city making him look like the villain in a superhero movie, and Makoto couldn’t express how turned on he was by that. 

“Come here,” Yamazaki demanded again, his voice cold now. Makoto stood on shaky legs. He could feel the way his cum slid down his thigh to the band of his boxer briefs and he shook his head at the feeling. 

Yamazaki didn’t see it that way. He clicked his tongue and then breathed out low and threatening, Makoto’s name. The brunet yelped, his eyes slithering up to Yamazaki’s as he shook in his shoes. He nearly ran to the man. 

He clutched at his own shirt as he came to a stop before Yamazaki, eyes cast aside as he shook. “Sorry, sir,” he whimpered regretfully. He ached for Yamazaki to reprimand him, but who knew what went on in the man’s head. He linked a thick finger through Makoto’s belt loop and rugged upwards at his slacks. Makoto crooned out a whimper. 

“Planning to walk home like this?”

Makoto nodded his head and then shook it, confused. He had to go home like this, but he couldn’t, could he?

Yamazaki released him with a heated breath and said, simply, “I need that vibrator back.”

“I’ll go- to the bathroom,” Makoto said in a trembling voice, but the stare on him refused to let him move. 

“Let me see,” Yamazaki demanded. 

Makoto let out a cry of fear. 

“Is that a no?” asked Yamazaki slowly, carefully. “Cucumber?”

Makoto peered up at him and felt warmth slide like a slug down his spine. He opened his mouth and whined. “No,” he whispered. And slowly he began to unbutton his pants. Yamazaki’s eyes never once left his body. They slid down over his chest, stirring up warm and fuzzy feelings, and Makoto thought for a moment, _Oh, no._

He was already in way too deep. 

His pants slid down just fine, but he had to wrestle ungracefully with his underwear. At one point he turned around in shame and wiggled the offending article down, pulling his whole body down into a fetal squat. There was a rustling above him, a sigh of impatience, and then something cold and hard pressed against his right butt cheek. 

“Stand,” said Yamazaki, and with it came a sharp thwap against his ass. Makoto shot up with a loud yelp, his cheek stinging, and he turned with bleary eyes to look at Yamazaki. He wasn’t smiling, or smirking even. His hand loosely held the ruler he’d used to smack Makoto. He blinked slowly at Makoto, waiting. 

“I’ll... show you,” whimpered Makoto, and Yamazaki nodded, like he’d expected no less. So Makoto turned forward again and bent in half. He felt the wetness of his crotch against his stomach as his shirt lifted and he felt his ass cheeks part a little for Yamazaki to see. He blushed beet red. 

An appreciative hum slid over Makoto’s body and he felt instantly warm. “S-sir,” he shivered out, his ass shaking involuntarily. A warm hand slid over his left ass cheek, thumb ever so slightly pulling his cheeks wider. 

“Take it out.”

Makoto reached around his hip and tried to get a grip on the vibrator, but it was coated in too much lube, everything he’d squeezed in there that had worked its way out of his butt since morning. His fingers couldn’t grip around the moon-shaped end and Makoto’s ass squeezed around the plug. The more he tried, the more nervous he became, and he grew acutely more aware of Yamazaki’s breathing, but the man didn’t move an inch. Makoto’s fingers seized, and finally he let out a short whine of frustration. 

“Take it... out, Makoto,” Yamazaki reiterated, and Makoto let out a shallow breath. He tried again, but the more he tried, the more futile it became. Finally he let his hand drop away in frustration. 

With zero warning, Yamazaki gripped around the vibrator and yanked it out. Makoto screamed as the plug left his butt so forcefully that his ass protested. He heard a loud thunk and swiveled around. Yamazaki grabbed the edge of his button-up to hold him, to wipe his wet fingers off. His eyes were lit with indignant anger, and Makoto swallowed and shook. His eyes travelled down to a small metal waste basket, where a glistening butt plug lay inside of it, along with the remote control. 

“Clean yourself up,” Yamazaki said in the coldest voice as he turned away, went back to his desk chair. He swiveled it around until the back faced Makoto and he was left with a growing pit in his stomach of great disappointment in himself, and cold loneliness. 

He stumbled to the bathroom with the top of his pants clenched in his hands and cleaned himself off, cleaned his underwear as best he could, holding it away from himself to dry as he made his way back to the office. His flaccid cock sat between his bare legs and he felt the air around him, unsettling and a little freeing. Yamazaki was still faced away in his chair, and Makoto dropped his pants and underwear as dread crept up his spine. What should he do?

“Makoto,” called Yamazaki, his voice distant, and Makoto nodded stiffly. He took a few steps forward on wooden legs, until a hand lolled out from beyond the huge desk chair, fingers lax as if too lazy to summon him forward, but it was an invitation nonetheless, and Makoto jumped forward. He gripped his shirt tails over his crotch and moved to step around the desk. 

Yamazaki rolled his head and stared at all of Makoto, his face unreadable. His eyes were dark and they slowly took in every detail of Makoto. Then he leaned forward and whispered in that low, sexy voice of his, “Makoto.”

Makoto stepped into his reach and a large hand cupped around his ass, pulled him to Yamazaki. The man rested his forehead against Makoto’s stomach and he froze, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t even sure what Yamazaki was doing as he slid his hand up Makoto’s ass and over his back. His shirt tugged up with it, and Makoto regretfully let go of the only thing covering his flaccid cock. Yamazaki held his warm hand there at the curve of Makoto’s spine. 

And then he chuckled low. Any tenderness Makoto had thought he’d felt slipped away, and he shivered deliciously despite himself. Teal eyes flicked up to him as Yamazaki leaned back, pulling Makoto with him. He had to jerk up a knee and plop it between Yamazaki’s legs, arms flying forward to catch himself on the back of the man’s chair, ass in the air. 

“Do you realize,” said Yamazaki with a greedy smile on his lips, “that you’re standing in front of tall windows with your ass and balls exposed?” He glanced around Makoto’s waist. “Look, I can see them now in the reflection.” He chuckled darkly. 

Makoto gripped at the back of the chair and let his head drop down in shame as his cheeks burned red. And then, biting at his lip, showing he didn’t care as much as he actually did, he gave a small wiggle of his ass, spreading his thighs. 

The hum that slid over his skin was so warm and pleasant, and Makoto knew Yamazaki had learned perfectly how to pull his strings and make him dance. He moaned softly and stepped up on his tippy toes, arching his back. His flaccid cock fell loose between his legs and he could just imagine what Yamazaki was seeing over his shoulder. The man let out a deep, appreciative rumble, and Makoto whimpered. He sunk his elbows to the chair, just above Yamazaki’s shoulders. He could feel his warmth and smell the man. The chair smelled like new leather and his cock trembled. He parted his lips as a whimpering moan released from them. 

And then Yamazaki ran a hand down his ass and whispered heatedly, “Good boy, Makoto.”

Makoto’s leg shook and he nodded slowly, swallowing the lust rising in his throat. 

“Wear something nice for me tomorrow. And don’t be late.”

x

Makoto stared in contemplation at his small dresser at home. He stood butt naked, 7:30 in the morning. He’d just come out of the shower, hair still a little wet, and he shivered in the cool of his apartment. _Wear something nice_ rang around his head. 

Every day of the past week he’d tried to find what that meant, and while Yamazaki was never displeased with his increasingly nicer suits and smaller underwear, he still said that every night to Makoto before they parted. 

Makoto bent down and wondered now if it was time to unveil one of his most private collections. He stared down at the open bottom drawer of his dresser and caressed gently over the contents inside. He shivered and tried to think of Yamazaki’s expression, but all he could see were intimidating eyes and straight lips. He let out a slow, shaky breath and thought that surely, at the very least, he couldn’t mess it up any more. 

x

Yamazaki looked up at him the moment he stepped into the office. He waited to say anything until Makoto had closed the door and taken two steps in, though. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and gave a small huff of appreciation. 

“Good morning, sir,” whispered Makoto, and Yamazaki met his eyes. They raked over Makoto, frowning slightly as he noted no big change in the man’s appearance. But he silently let it go and nodded Makoto to his desk. 

All day, Makoto could feel eyes slide over him. Yamazaki would be in the middle of a conference call and Makoto would feel his eyes slide over him. Sometimes he would show a small frown, his voice growing a little more irritated at the person on the other end of the line. Every time his desk chair’s leather squeaked, Makoto shivered, and he knew Yamazaki took note of it. 

During one such call, later in the day, Yamazaki moved in his chair and Makoto wiggled in his own, but something caught tight around his cock and he gasped, blessedly low enough to not be picked up over the handset. 

Yamazaki’s eyes slid over to him so fast that Makoto forgot to exhale. Ever so slowly, out of the corner of his eye, he watched Yamazaki lift the phone’s hand set from his face and press a button calmly on the keypad. A disgruntled voice filled the room, and Makoto shut his eyes as Yamazaki set the handset down, the call now on speaker phone. He turned slightly in his chair to block it out, trying to concentrate on work, but Yamazaki had other plans in mind. 

The little chat window at the corner of Makoto’s computer screen blinked and he glanced warily at it.

_Come here, Makoto._

Even his text messages left no room for disobedience, and Makoto stiffly rose from his chair. He felt teal eyes heavy on him and shivered as he walked forward. Around the desk, Yamazaki beckoned him as he hummed to something the caller on the other end said. Encouraged, the man continued on, and Yamazaki pressed his jaw into his hand and smiled crookedly at Makoto, a bad sign. But Makoto moved into his personal space anyways. 

Yamazaki watched him with those infuriatingly beautiful eyes for a long while, the call droning on beside them. Yamazaki would respond and give critiques, but his eyes never left Makoto’s, and Makoto was left to stand there in confusion. 

Finally Yamazaki smirked, and he leaned forward in his chair, leather squeaking. Makoto breathed in a gasp and covered his mouth as the fabric around his chest caught at his nipple. Yamazaki’s eyes seemed to light up ever so slowly, like his theory was being confirmed. Then he looked up at Makoto and mouthed, _Show me_.

Makoto shook his head softly even as his hands crept up to the bottom button of his shirt. Yamazaki just smirked and watched him, knowing Makoto had zero will to actually disobey him anymore. He watched with those unnervingly gorgeous eyes as Makoto slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He let it fall loose and open around his frame, let Yamazaki’s eyes drift over him as he tilted his head away. He wondered if he’d made the right choice this morning. 

He felt a hand reach up and grip lightly at the edge of his shirt, felt it lift away from his body to reveal what was underneath. He felt the hand still. 

After a long beat of silence between the two, the caller still talking on and on in the background, Makoto braved a look at Yamazaki’s face. He’d been staring at Makoto’s chest, at his growing erection, but his eyes quickly flicked up to Makoto’s face and their eyes met. Yamazaki pulled his hand away and made a quick motion that could only mean one thing. 

_Take it off._

With shaking hands, Makoto pressed up under his shirt and lifted the thing off his shoulders. It fell away and he let it go, let the cool air of the office slide over his bare stomach. Then Yamazaki flipped a hand over his own belt buckle and Makoto nodded stiffly. He discarded his pants and tried to keep his breathing quiet, but his heart was beating out of his chest and his cock was impossibly hard in his panties. 

He was scared to look at Yamazaki, so instead he looked to the side and saw his reflection against the windows, the city skyline making it look more shameful that it perhaps was. 

Makoto, his broad shoulders and slim frame, stood shamefully in the middle of Yamazaki’s office wearing nothing but a silky brassiere and matching lace-trimmed panties, the matching set in a blush pink that looked beautiful against his pearly white skin. He shivered. 

The thing he’d never wanted anyone to know, the fact that he sometimes felt more comfortable in women’s undergarments, that he collected them, kept them neatly folded and safe in a drawer in his room and wore them at night, on weekends, when he slept, was now in full display to his boss and whoever happened to look out of an office building window across the street. And Makoto wondered if this feeling in his stomach was freedom or dread. 

He wouldn’t know until he looked at Yamazaki’s face, but he also feared looking. He’d had very few partners, but this was the one thing he’d never even thought of showing anyone. Yet here he was, a week into whatever this thing was with his boss, and he’d worn a set to work, under his suit. And he’d felt wonderful doing it. Sure, he’d worried his ass off the first two hours, but then he’d realized that he was comfortable, insanely so, inside his suit, inside his own skin. He felt himself, and it felt really nice. But if he looked at Yamazaki now and the man was revolted, he’d loose that. He’d feel sick. 

Beside him, the leather in Yamazaki’s chair squeaked softly and his voice was low and steady as he spoke to the man on the other end of the line. It was stuff Makoto didn’t understand, but it wasn’t his words that were important. It was the tone, authoritative, trustworthy, heated. And then Makoto felt those eyes on him again, and slowly, slowly, he turned back towards Yamazaki. 

He inhaled sharply at the look on the man’s face. He wasn’t even sure if it could be classified as a smile, but his eyes were _hot_ on Makoto, and his lips were tilted up in a way that was altogether provocative and inviting. Makoto shivered hotly, and Yamazaki slid those aqua eyes up to his face. He took one of Makoto’s hands and pulled it away from his body, where he’d been trying to somehow hide all of himself behind it. 

And then Yamazaki smiled. It was a lusty, greedy, possessive thing, but it thrilled Makoto so much that his cock twitched and ached in his small undies. He let out the slowest heated breath. 

It was an eternity, it seemed. The call went on and on and the other man wouldn’t shut up. At one point, Yamazaki actually frowned and bit out a, “Be quick about it,” as the man sputtered over his words. 

Makoto felt so relieved when Yamazaki finally turned back to his desk and bid the man a forced goodbye. He wasn’t even sure why his boss felt the need to end the call, aside from the fact that the man wouldn’t shut up, but he looked a little too happy to cut it off. Makoto’s lips pressed into a puzzled expression. 

Yamazaki leaned back with a heavy sigh and swiveled his eyes back to Makoto to appreciate his form, maybe say something. But he never got the chance. 

A harsh knock sounded on the office door and Yamazaki grated out a curse. Makoto had only a split second to drop to his knees before the door opened wide. He prayed Miho wouldn’t look in the window’s reflection and see Makoto on his knees in women’s underwear, his face embarrassingly close to Yamazaki’s lap. 

His eyes drifted to the crotch before him, curious more than anything, but the thing he saw there made him gasp aloud. A rough hand seized his hair and his face was squished into Yamazaki’s crotch and he stuttered out a shocked breath. The thing that had made him gasp was now pressing hard and hot and insistent against his cheek. 

Yamazaki was hard in his slacks. 

Makoto let out a slow, heated breath against it and swiveled his face towards it, needing to confirm. But he could practically smell the desire rolling off Yamazaki in waves. His nose and lips pressed against it and Yamazaki’s hand tightened on his hair. Makoto’s hands flew out and gripped at strong calves, his whole body shaking in this new revelation. He prayed for Miho, bless her soul, to just leave soon. 

He expected Yamazaki to pull him back the moment the door shut, but instead he pulled Makoto’s head tighter and ground his cock against the man’s face. And then he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock and without warning, shoved Makoto’s mouth down over him. He hit so instantly deep that Makoto choked violently on the large intrusion. Yamazaki didn’t let him go, though, and the grip on his hair began to hurt his scalp. In and out, Yamazaki dragged himself, fucking Makoto’s face so hard that he was scarcely given a moment to collect himself. His legs went weak and he sank to his ass and he shut his eyes and let Yamazaki fuck his throat raw. 

His hands slid down flexing calves weakly and hung around Yamazaki’s ankles. He pressed his tongue flat against Yamazaki’s cock and drank in the heavy huff of air above him. His eyes drifted up as he opened his throat and he blinked up at Yamazaki. 

If it wasn’t for what was happening, he would have thought Yamazaki was just doing business as usual. His face showed no signs of his desire, his lips and eyes cold on Makoto. He blinked his green eyes in surprise, his gut twisting sharply. He felt nauseous. He dug his nails into Yamazaki’s ankles and begged silently for a response. A tear slid down his face and Yamazaki’s hips stuttered. He sank slowly back into his chair. His hands slipped from the back of Makoto’s head to his cheeks. He breathed out slow, waiting. But Makoto didn’t offer up his safe word, just stared up at his, licking slowly at his lips. He’d figure it out soon anyways... 

Yamazaki pressed his foot against the leaking erection in Makoto’s panties, and he smirked wide, eyes flashing. Makoto whimpered weakly and Yamazaki barked out a laugh. 

“Fuck, you’re enjoying this?”

Makoto could only nod weakly as he suckled at Yamazaki’s cock. He wanted it in the back of his throat again, cutting off his air. He wanted that blistering face-fucking; all he wanted to see was that Yamazaki was enjoying it too. He blinked up at Yamazaki. 

Yamazaki rubbed at his cheeks, pressed them inward against his cock, waited for Makoto to slurp up his dripping saliva. And then he gripped under Makoto’s jaw and went back to work. Makoto felt his throat violently choke and his lungs cry out with lack of air. His eyes filled with tears, but he was smiling so much it hurt. He licked his wetness all over Yamazaki, drooled over his cock, felt his own cock leak as Yamazaki fucked his throat with the faintest smug smile on his face. 

He drank it all when Yamazaki finally came down his throat. He licked it up and swallowed harshly and suckled at Yamazaki’s cock. The man’s foot pressed more insistently against Makoto’s hard dick. It was almost painful, but there was that edge of pure bliss. Yamazaki pulled his head back by his hair and Makoto came with a raw cry of intense pleasure. His cum slid wet over Yamazaki’s shoe and the man didn’t even have to say a word before Makoto was down on his elbows, licking his shoe clean. 

Above him, Yamazaki leaned back and smirked proudly. He tucked his cock back into his pants and pulled Makoto to his feet. He looked a little messy, but Yamazaki’s eyes ate him up. And then Yamazaki turned back to his desk and held out his arm. Wordlessly, confused, Makoto shuffled into it and gasped dryly when Yamazaki sat him down in his lap. 

And then, wordlessly, unconcerned, he went back to work, looking over Makoto’s shoulder and typing away. And Makoto could do nothing but sit there in his all-togethers and try not to quake in embarrassment off the thick thighs under his ass. 

x

This was really bad, Makoto thought as he sat at his desk. The room felt empty and lonely; Yamazaki was out on business meetings all day. And Makoto was miserably lonely. With that loneliness, as it slowly crept up on him throughout the day, came the realization that he was absolutely falling in love with his boss.

It was more of an inkling, really. He was packing up his briefcase when Yamazaki’s secretary stuck her head in and announced that she was going home. Miho shut the door behind her after they’d shared their smiles and greetings, and now Makoto was really, really alone. He glanced to his left, to the nighttime lights of the city beyond the glass, to the foreboding desk, to the huge chair. He closed his eyes and could hear Yamazaki’s rumbling voice, could smell him everywhere. Before he knew it, his feet had carried him to Yamazaki’s chair. Here it smelled the strongest of the man, and timidly, Makoto pulled the chair out and around and sat in it. It was huge, and it seemed to swallow him whole. He sank back into it, closing his eyes. 

The inkling was becoming a full blown thought. Makoto clutched at the arms of the chair and tried to control his breathing as he thought of Yamazaki. He could still feel the cock ring from yesterday pressing around his crotch. He shivered, a twitch in his pants that he ignored. 

He turned his head slowly, turned his upper body so he could press his nose deep into the leather of the chair. He inhaled it; Yamazaki’s cologne, his body scent, the smell of new leather. Makoto’s hands jerked down to his crotch and he rubbed harshly at his cock, begging it not to react so strongly, but the full blown thought was now absolute certainty. Makoto was in love with his boss. It wasn’t even just that he was a perfect dom who knew how to read Makoto like an open book; it was that he was insanely handsome and strong, that he wore his suits so well, and that he smelled like something Makoto wanted to have sex with. And it certainly wasn’t the glimpses of Yamazaki’s genuine smile or the pats on the head or the compliments of, “Good boy, Makoto.” It wasn’t any one thing, it was absolutely everything melting into a package of a perfect man, and Makoto was done for. He was madly in love with the one man who would never see him as a romantic interest at all; they did a lot of things together, but it seemed fairly clear that, to Yamazaki, this was nothing more than _stress relief_.

Makoto inhaled deeply of the leather and cologne and thought of corsets and leather suits and a man taking him to paradise and beyond. He ground his palm against his cock again, now getting painfully hard, and he wanted to hear Yamazaki scold him for getting so horny like this. 

Makoto’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he was so lost in his fantasies for a second that he didn’t realize it wasn’t a vibrator. The screen was lit bright against the dim lighting of the room, and he squinted at the screen. His heart slammed into a higher gear. Breathlessly, he answered the phone. 

“Hello?”

There was silence on the other end and Makoto swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Sir?” he squeaked out.

“Makoto,” came Yamazaki’s voice, and Makoto had to bite his lip to hold back a moan. Yamazaki’s voice was heavy and low, and it tumbled against Makoto’s ear so pleasantly that he had to grind against his hand again. He pressed his nose into the leather, ass up a little as he responded airily, “Yes, sir?”

“Are you still in the office?”

Makoto almost gasped. Had he been found out? Impossible. “Yes, sir. I am...”

“Good. I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course, sir,” Makoto said, his words ending in a weak whimper as his hips twitched and his palm ground just right against his cock. He couldn’t admit that he was masturbating right now; he’d rather die, but here he was, shamelessly fapping to leather and a phone call. 

There was another pause on the other end of the line, Yamazaki speaking to someone with him. His voice sounded so different, and then he came back on the phone and it was all brooding sexiness again. 

“Makoto, in the top drawer of my desk is a notepad. Can you pull it out and read me the phone number written on it?”

“Yes, sir,” breathed out Makoto as he turned in the chair, his lungs desperate for air; it felt suddenly too hot. He pulled open the first drawer he saw. At first it all seemed normal, pens and sticky notes, but then Makoto looked closer and he saw the other stuff. 

At the back were collars and the cock ring from yesterday, a few bullet vibrators and nipple clamps. And a pack of condoms and lube. Makoto inhaled sharply and then released a high noted breath. 

“Not that drawer...” Yamazaki said slowly. “Makoto, it’s the drawer to the left.”

Makoto had to bite back a whine. His pants were uncomfortably tight, and he was too far gone to think unzipping now was a bad idea. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he did so, turning now to the next drawer. 

“I found it, sir,” he whispered triumphantly. 

“Good job, Makoto,” the other man responded, and Makoto shuddered quietly against his chest. His cock was begging for attention and he stared at it forlornly. “What’s the phone number?”

Makoto read it out, his eyes blurring at points, his cock trying to remind him every second that it was painfully erect. It felt like years when he finally read the last number. He shoved the pad back into the drawer and slammed it shut. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock and curled in on himself, breathing heavy into his sleeve. 

“Was that all, sir?” he whispered. 

Through the phone he could hear the sounds of the city behind Yamazaki. A car door opened and closed and suddenly it was just Yamazaki and his breathing into Makoto’s ear. _Fuck._

“Umm, sir, will you be back in the office tomorrow?” He tried not to sound too hopeful. 

“Yes,” was the man’s short reply, but it was enough to send a spike of happiness up Makoto’s dick. 

“Oh~” Makoto cleared his throat awkwardly and then said, in a calmer voice, “Glad to hear it.”

More silence sat between them. 

“Did you get your work done, Makoto?”

The brunet startled, glancing guiltily over at his own desk. “Yes...” he whispered.

“Hmm...” was all the response he got back. 

“Sir-“ began Makoto after another painful silence. He wanted to keep listening to that breathing, but he didn’t trust himself to actually jack off to it, so his cock was still painfully unattended to. 

“Makoto,” interrupted Yamazaki sternly. 

Makoto shivered. 

“What are you doing right now?”

 _Fuck!_ “N-nothing, sir? I was just straightening up and getting ready to-“

“Don’t lie to me, Makoto,” Yamazaki said in a commanding voice. And then he let out a long sigh, and in a deeper, lower voice, he said, “Makoto, tell me what you’re doing right now.”

“I’m... sitting in your chair.”

“Just sitting?” Yamazaki chuckled softly, and Makoto could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“N-no,” whimpered Makoto. He turned and pressed his face back into the leather, inhaled deeply and tried to imagine Yamazaki right there, breathing in his ear. He pressed the phone closer. 

There was no use pretending anymore, Yamazaki knew exactly what he was up to, so Makoto rubbed his trembling hand up and back down his erection. He muffled a moan into the leather of the desk chair. But if he expected more questions about what he was doing, he was wrong. 

Instead he got, “How do you like sitting in my chair, Makoto? Is it comfortable?” The tone of his voice was way too suggestive for the question to be so innocent. 

Makoto whimpered out a, “Yes.”

“Are you imagining it’s your chair?”

“N-no, sir-“

“Then why are you sitting in it, Makoto?” An innocent, clueless tone. Makoto knew better; he bit at his lip and mumbled out an unintelligible response. 

“What made you sit in it, Makoto?” he pressed, voice going deeper.

Makoto whimpered. His hand was moving at a fast pace now, his toes curling against black leather. His nose was inhaling Yamazaki’s scent. “Cause- it was big, and I wanted to know- how you feel-“

“Hmm. Did you figure out what I feel?”

Makoto whimpered again. 

“And how big is it, Makoto?”

“B-big. It feels like- like it’s holding me.”

“Is that all?“

Makoto let out a high whine, frustrated, but so turned on by Yamazaki’s voice. Part of him screamed to just spill the beans, but he bit back the truth. 

“Makoto,” breathed Yamazaki. “I know you’re jacking off in my chair. Pick out your favorite thing from that drawer you opened before and use it.”

Makoto tried to deny everything, but the moment he opened his mouth, a trembling moan slipped out instead. With a shaky hand, he reached out and opened the middle drawer again, blindly searching inside. He located the lube by feel and wrapped his hand around it, pulling it out. On his lap fell the bottle he’d been aiming for as well as something else. It took his eyes a moment to focus and his brain a few longer to register. He gasped silently at the anal beads laying so innocently against his thighs. 

“Did you find something you liked, Makoto?” Yamazaki asked in a low, sultry voice, and Makoto stared down at the rope of silicone beads. 

“Yes,” he whispered out breathlessly. 

“Put me on speaker phone.”

Makoto’s hands shook as he set the phone down, pressing the button for speaker phone. Suddenly Yamazaki’s slow breathing filled the office. Makoto clutched at the back of the chair. He couldn’t use the beads like this, couldn’t even really reach his ass like this. He stood slowly and stripped off his pants, and then he crawled back onto the chair on his knees, one hand gripping the back of it as another dipped into the lube container. 

“Makoto, do you like my chair?”

Makoto gave a half whimper as he rubbed a finger around his rim. He pressed his face into the leather and breathed in harshly. 

“Did you like finding my drawer of goodies?”

Another whimper, and Makoto pressed just the tip of his finger inside. His hand clutched tighter at the chair. He couldn’t even think of any kind of responses, but Yamazaki seemed fine with that. 

“Tell me, Makoto, what were you thinking about that you got so hard just sitting in my chair? Hmm?”

Then his voice dropped a few notes. As Makoto slid his finger deeper inside, Yamazaki asked, “Did you miss me today, Makoto?”

Makoto’s head tipped back and he let out a long, high whine. He’d used too much lube; he was dripping from the front and the back onto Yamazaki’s chair. 

“Don’t get my chair dirty, Makoto,” Yamazaki scolded slowly like he could see exactly what was happening. 

“N-no,” whimpered Makoto as he reached down with his free hand to swipe at the leather, forgetting where his other finger was as he sank down on it. A spark lit up his spine and he jerked up and down on his finger. Quickly he pressed in a second as Yamazaki purred at him over the phone, fucking his fingers mindlessly. He gripped at the leather between his legs, nose pressed to the back of the chair once more. His ass swayed softly as the chair rocked this way and that. Over the edge of the back he could see the lights of the city, so cold and lonely, so pretty. He wanted Yamazaki there. He moaned mournfully as he realized his fingers couldn’t reach. He sat up a little, the chair rocking, and he reached for the beads behind him. Gripping at them blindly, he swiped over his phone screen before reaching the beads, probably smearing lube everywhere, but he couldn’t care less right now. He closed his fingers around the silicone balls and pulled them to his chest. 

He tried to carefully apply the lube to them, his back muscles working to hold him steady, thighs flexing to keep the chair from wobbling under him. He could barely breathe in anticipation, wondering how much Yamazaki could hear and make out. 

Behind him, the man cooed again over the phone. Makoto buried his face in shame into the back of the chair and gripped at the leather with one hand as he began pressing the first bead inside. It was small and slid in easily. Four beads was easy, but then it started getting a little full and the beads were getting bigger. Makoto swallowed audibly and paused for a second.

“Makoto,” warned Yamazaki, like he _knew_. 

Makoto mewled and pressed in the next one. It felt funny, and he squeaked as he tried to adjust his sitting. His fingers were pushing at the anal beads to hold them in place, but instead another one was pressed inside and Makoto gasped loudly. Behind him, Yamazaki purred his approval. 

It took a few more minutes, but finally Makoto was at the end of the rope, and he felt very strange and full. Every shift or twitch of his hips moved the beads inside of him, and he was shaking, his cock trembling and leaking all over the place. He sobbed as he tried to hold his ass and grip the head of his cock at the same time. The chair shifted beneath him, and he bemoaned his choices.

But then Yamazaki demanded, “Raise your pretty little ass, Makoto.”

Makoto froze stiff.

Yamazaki chuckled darkly. “Let me see, Makoto,” he sang.

A cold chill crawled up Makoto’s spine, and slowly, slowly, he peered over his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he could see it. Had it been when he’d been reaching for those damn beads? The phone call had switched to a video call, and in a small corner of the screen, Makoto could see his back, see his face pressed into the leather, see his trembling body. 

The rest of the screen was filled with Yamazaki’s smirking, handsome face. 

Makoto yelped and slapped at his phone. His first thought was to move and get out, but he’d forgotten for a moment. The beads rolled in his ass and he froze with a moan glued to the back of his throat.

“Makoto, don’t be so prudish,” Yamazaki chuckled darkly. He purred at the other. He couldn’t see anymore, but Makoto could still hear his voice very well. 

“I’m sorry- sorry, s-sir,” Makoto sobbed. He pulled himself up in the chair but the beads shifted again and he let out a broken sound. “Sorry,” he whispered as his hand flew to his shaft and he gave in. 

He was so close. It was a combination of the shame and Yamazaki’s voice and those damn beads up his ass. He was so horny, so in love; he pressed his nose back to the leather and dreamed of Yamazaki holding him, fucking him in the chair. He was making lewd voices and Yamazaki was reading his mind again. 

“Makoto, are you horny? Is it the chair? My voice? Did it turn you on to know I could see you? Hmm, Makoto? Tell me you’re thinking about me right now.” His voice dropped again. “Are you thinking about my body? Or maybe my big cock?” A whimper from Makoto and the man chuckled like it hadn’t been a wild guess. “Keep your ass wet and open for me.”

Makoto didn’t know what to make of that last line, but fuck, he was so close to coming. 

He was so, so close, and then a door slammed open behind him and he froze. 

“Ma~ko~to~” sang Yamazaki in a twisted voice. Makoto wondered why his cock spasmed in his hand, wondered why his knees buckled. 

He heard him, five long, heavy strides, and then there was a hand gripping hard at his neck. The anal beads were ripped out of his ass and he cried out, but the sound got stuck halfway out. 

Yamazaki slammed hard inside Makoto. Green eyes went wide and his whole body went stiff. 

_Ah, this..._ he thought belatedly. 

But Yamazaki was already bending over him and breathing into his ear, “This is that cock that you were dreaming of. Tell me it feels better, Makoto. Is it better than you dreamed?”

Makoto choked on an inhale and blinked back tears. He shook his head violently, head tossing back as Yamazaki pulled out and rushed back in. Makoto couldn’t breathe. It was all too much and absolutely perfect at the same time. 

Yamazaki was bending backwards while plowing Makoto’s ass, and he didn’t know what was happening until the man slapped something around his throat. The leather of it dug into Makoto’s windpipe, and now he really couldn’t breathe. 

The world went white as Yamazaki fucked him with his thick cock and Makoto forgot what air felt like. A short release, a gulp of air, and then more tight squeezing. Makoto was reaching some kind of illusive nirvana. He didn’t want to cum, not yet, not yet. He gripped weakly at his cock. 

Yamazaki smacked his hand away and put a death grip on his erection. If Makoto had access to air, he would have screamed. Instead his eyes bugged out wide and his lips flapped like a fish out of water. And Yamazaki kept fucking him with that delicious cock of his. Even Makoto’s best fantasies didn’t live up to how it actually felt. 

Yamazaki came first inside of him, flooding him. He dropped the collar and gripped at Makoto’s hair, licking at his ear. But still he didn’t release the death grip on the smaller man’s cock. Makoto was close to bursting, but he knew Yamazaki could take him just a little bit higher. He shivered in pleasure at the warmth gushing out inside of him and pressed weakly at his tummy. 

“Yamazaki-san~” he crooned. The man pulled out and he dragged Makoto around. He stepped back as his cum spilled out of Makoto and over his leather chair. He took in Makoto’s red lips and eyes, his tear-stained cheeks and snotty nose. And then he pulled out his phone and took a photo. 

Without another word, he stripped off his clothes and walked to the bathroom to clean off his hands, leaving Makoto weak and leaking, aching on the chair. He sank into the leather and accepted the loneliness, the ache. 

His eyes were half-lidded, but he zeroed in on Yamazaki the moment he was back, focused on his beautiful body, his cock, all of the muscles piled on, smooth skin moving over them. Yamazaki was a fucking dream, and here Makoto was, barely able to cover up his own shame. 

Oh, how he loved this man, who was so insanely handsome that it seemed almost unreal, and oh, how pitiful Makoto must seem to him. He leaned against his desk before Makoto and scrolled around on his phone. 

Yamazaki silently took his ankle in one hand, raised his leg. More cum spilled out of him; he covered his eyes in shame. The soft click of a camera shutter sounded. One leg up, two legs up, click. 

With one hand, Yamazaki unbuttoned Makoto from his shirt, spread it open, peeled him out of it. Click, click, click. Then pulling him up, turning him around, face into leather. Makoto’s ass presented in the air, click, click. A finger at his ass, at his entrance, circling, digging in, digging cum out. Cum dripping down his leg, click, click, click, click. Makoto’s thighs shook, but he was begging Yamazaki silently to take more photos. What would he do with them, he couldn’t even fathom, but Yamazaki found him worthy of documenting and Makoto was still achingly hard. 

And then there was a soft sound like a phone being set down and Yamazaki gripped around Makoto’s hips, turned him around, pulled him against his chest. He slid down to the floor and laid his long body against the shag rug, Makoto atop him. And then he commanded, “Ride me, Makoto.”

He tied Makoto’s tie around his cock, tied it tight, and Makoto stiffly slid up on his knees. His whole body was overly sensitive and every nerve was alive. The desire to cum and climb over that ridge was like a heated stone inside his gut, but at every turn Yamazaki made sure he was denied his release, and he wasn’t sure if he absolutely loved it or wanted to cry. Either way, he felt over the moon, his whole body trembling through denied orgasms. It took him five tries to get Yamazaki’s cock lined up with his ass and then he sank down with a great sigh of relief. 

“Fuck~”

A loud smack resounded around the office, and Makoto’s left ass cheek lit up with pain and warmth. He mewled and his hips shuddered; Yamazaki wasn’t giving him a moment of rest and he couldn’t ask for anything better. He pushed aside his tiredness, his clawing desire to cum. He wanted to enjoy this, wanted to enjoy riding Yamazaki, having the man below him, staring up at him with those gorgeous aqua eyes. Makoto looked down at him with half-lidded eyes and mewled pitifully. Yamazaki just smirked up at him and smacked his ass again, hard. 

“Go on~,” he sang up to Makoto. And then he waited, hand gripping Makoto’s fleshy ass between long, thick fingers. Makoto carefully placed his palms on Yamazaki’s chest, testing the waters before spreading out his fingers. His moan caught in his chest and he whimpered. 

Yamazaki just stared up at him, waiting. Expression unfazed. 

Makoto tightened his thighs and slowly, slowly he rose up. Yamazaki’s face never changed, he just kept watching, and Makoto revelled in the unfaltering stare, those ever-watchful eyes. Forbidden feelings bubbled up and he pressed his lips together tightly to keep them in. And he rode Yamazaki. 

Every once in a while, the man would smack his ass and Makoto would speed up a little. It went like that, a smack and speeding up, until Makoto was barely breathing with how fast he was moving, his thighs screaming, but he was glowing, basking in Yamazaki’s stare. A small smile lifted up the corners of his lips, and Makoto wanted to lean down and kiss him, taste him, but he kept his spine straight as he just kept riding Yamazaki. 

He didn’t even notice when the smacks stopped and Yamazaki’s hand traveled softly around his thigh, his thumb nestling into the small space between his thigh and groin, caressing. He didn’t notice the way Yamazaki’s eyes went a little softer as he watched Makoto. 

His green eyes flickered open and a gasp sparked out of him when Yamazaki changed the angle of his hips, lifting off the rug a little, and the head of his dick struck against Makoto’s prostate. A smirk lit up Yamazaki’s face and his eyes went dark with desire, and he slammed back up into Makoto, their hips meeting. Makoto tossed his head back, tips of his fingers clamping down on Yamazaki’s massive pectorals, and he yelped. Yamazaki crooned up at him, set a rigid pace, never relenting. Makoto rode it out with breathless gasps that stuck in his throat, his hands cramping but it was all he could do to not topple over.

“Ready~?” Yamazaki crooned, and Makoto nodded furiously, his body begging for that sweet, sweet release. 

The taller man chuckled darkly and teased, “Then let me hear you beg for it.”

Makoto’s spine went straight as a thick finger teased over the head of his cock, his eyes snapping forward, catching a hint of a slow smile on Yamazaki’s face. But then he blinked up at Makoto and it was all fierce eyes and smirks again. 

A plea trembled out of Makoto’s lips, no choice of his own, it just came. “Please, sir~”

Yamazaki hummed at him, acting oblivious. “Please what, Makoto?”

“Please, sir, I want to cum~” Then another broken plea tumbled over his lips, and he licked at them, inhaled roughly. Tears came to his eyes and he clawed at Yamazaki’s chest. He wished he was better at begging, wished he could make Yamazaki enjoy it as much as he was. He whimpered, feeling a little brave. “Please, I want to cum all over your chest... sir...”

Yamazaki’s eyes snapped up to his, from where he’d been watching his rising and falling chest, his bobbing cock, and Makoto felt true fear, delicious and sugary as it coiled in his gut, and he mewled sweetly. “Please, Yamazaki-san. Let me cum for you. I’ll be so good for you.”

Yamazaki’s hand snapped and suddenly the tightness around his cock was gone, and Yamazaki thrust his cock up violently against Makoto’s prostate. White cleared out Makoto’s vision and he tossed his head back. He could barely even choke out a sobbing moan as he came so violently, his whole body trembling through the orgasm, his toes curling at the intense pleasure. 

And then he collapsed against Yamazaki’s chest, spent, felt the wetness of his release squish between them, and he sobbed, whimpered out the man’s name over and over. He didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to move even as he knew he should. But if he expected Yamazaki to push him off or demand he move, he felt nothing. He just laid there, and the taller man let him. He let him feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, the rolling of his muscles. Makoto shut his eyes against tears and felt himself falling so hopelessly in love, wishing he could never live without this man again. 

He wanted him. He ached bodily for him. His heart was in his throat for him. 

But this was all just a game, wasn’t it? Just a really, really fun game. 

A game that would break Makoto when it was over, when Yamazaki was tired of playing. 

He tried to move off of Yamazaki’s chest, knowing that him laying there wasn’t part of the deal. His arms were weak when he got them under him, but he shakily peeled himself off the man and got a first real glimpse at his chest covered in cum. He practically glowed red in shame, an apology already on the tip of his tongue, but he choked on it when strong arms came around him and pulled him back down. His arms folded awkwardly at Yamazaki’s side, and he whimpered. 

“Where are you going?” the man said in a low voice, and Makoto trembled.

“Sorry-“ he whispered, not even sure what he was apologizing for anymore at his point. 

There was a long beat of silence, their warmth mixing together and pulling Makoto into sleepiness. He didn’t realize how tired he was until his eyelids started drooping all by themselves. He begged them to stay open; he really couldn’t fall asleep like this.

“Stay,” hummed Yamazaki softly, his arms moving, hands coasting over Makoto’s back like he was mapping him, and Makoto froze. His eyes wide, he wondered when he’d fallen asleep. This had to be a dream. He slowly peeked up, chin coming to rest on Yamazaki’s chest. Earnest teal eyes looked right back down at him, but he didn’t repeat his words. He shouldn’t have to. 

But Makoto wanted to hear it again. He swallowed roughly and slowly turned his head and pressed his cheek again to Yamazaki’s chest. He murmured the smallest, “Okay.” And then he slowly pressed his folded arms tight against the man’s sides, a sort of hug, fingers coasting carefully over the muscles that connected under his arms. His breathing slowed and his eyelids refused to stay up, and he wished this would never end. Yamazaki was still rubbing over his back, and he wondered if it was habit or if he liked feeling Makoto. He wasn’t as built as Yamazaki, but he swam a lot, working out to maintain a remnant of his youth that he’d always prided himself in. 

Yamazaki’s hands shifted to his sides and he shivered against the warm chest beneath him, eyes long ago closed, but somehow he was clinging to consciousness. Each rib was counted, once up and then down, and then the hips and the small of the back were explored. Slowly long arms moved down to caress over Makoto’s ass cheeks, and there was a vibration against his cheek from Yamazaki’s chest like he was pleased with what he’d found. 

Makoto gasped and sat up then, knowing he’d fall asleep for sure if Yamazaki kept going. Knowing he’d get hard again. He shuffled off and murmured something about his cum drying. He waddled to the bathroom quickly and returned with wet paper towels. It was eerie being in the office when all the other lights were off and the only glow came from the buildings outside and the desk lamp glowing pale light on his own desk. He crawled under the large desk again, refused to meet Yamazaki’s eyes as he wiped his chest off slowly. Yamazaki just let him, silent, but Makoto could feel his gaze heavy on him. He ignored it as his cheeks grew dusty again. 

Then he stood and wiped at his own belly, those eyes never leaving him, the man’s gaze lower but no less heated. And then Yamazaki stood when he was tired of being ignored and grabbed Makoto by the ass to his chest.

“Look at me, Makoto,” he commanded, no room for disobedience, and Makoto shivered as his eyes slid up. Yamazaki’s gaze was like hot lava on him, and his hands trembled as they reached up to press gently against his pectorals. 

“Yes, sir,” he husked out. 

Yamazaki’s lips quirked up. And then he said, completely out of character and left field, “Has anyone ever told you that your ass is phenomenal? It’s so fat...”

Makoto went bright red. It wasn’t a diss, was it? Sure, every section of Yamazaki was trim and lean, mostly muscle and barely any fat, but Makoto had never thought his ass of all things needed to be smaller. Now he was worried; was his ass that big? He peered down over his shoulder and stuck it out a little. 

Yamazaki leaned his head down and chuckled low. 

“No, I wasn’t-!” sputtered Makoto as he realized he’d just pressed his ass against Yamazaki’s hands. The man squeezed at his cheeks and Makoto yelped. 

He kneaded at them, head still leaned down so Makoto couldn’t really see his face, but he swore he heard Yamazaki murmur, “I’m so obsessed...”

“What-?” he squeaked out, but the moment was gone and Yamazaki was pulling away.

“Put your clothes on, I’m driving you home.”

Makoto blinked wide. He thought of declining, but the thought of parting with Yamazaki left a raw pit in his stomach. He clutched his pants to his stomach and simply nodded. He cleaned himself off, stopped as he felt something wet trickle down his inner thigh. He reached back, shocked, whispering, “When did he-?”

When had Yamazaki cum inside him? He fingered at the thick, white stuff, confused. Had it been when he’d orgasmed? It was the only time he could think of when he wouldn’t have noticed. He glanced at Yamazaki, but the man was pulling on his suit jacket, body turned away. Had he already been ready to cum or had Makoto sent him over the edge? He wanted it to be the latter... He wiped slowly at the cum, trying his best to clean it out and off with his limited resources. He grabbed his clothes up and excused himself to the bathroom. 

At the sink, he gripped at the porcelain and stared in shock at his reflection. He could still feel some cum leaking out. He was sad he’d missed it; he hadn’t even heard the other man make a single noise to signify... Had he even enjoyed fucking Makoto? He slid down to a squat and shivered. What did he even have to offer this man? 

There was a knock at the door, and Makoto yelped. 

“I’ll be right there,” but Yamazaki was already invading the space. He pulled Makoto up, grabbed his clothes. 

“What were you doing?” he asked absently as he practically clothed Makoto for him. Makoto stood in shock as a Yamazaki calmly pulled on his underwear and slacks, his shirt and jacket. He buttoned the thing up and then handed Makoto a wad of something. His tie. 

Yamazaki turned to walk out, Makoto knowing he was expected to follow. “My briefcase,” he said as he stumbled after the tall man, tucking his shirt into his pants as he went. Yamazaki silently raised his left arm and Makoto saw that he was carrying both his own and Makoto’s briefcases. He yelped in shame and reached for it, but Yamazaki just shifted them to his other hand and caught Makoto against his side. The elevator ride was embarrassingly silent, so he focused on buttoning up his jacket and cuffs. 

Yamazaki exited the elevator and left Makoto behind, pulling out keys, and Makoto realized they were on the basement level. The lot was empty save for one car, and he practically fell out of the elevator at the sight of it. 

It was beautiful, sleek, a brand new Range Rover, the paint on it a glossy black. He’d imagined Yamazaki in something smaller, but now as the man walked towards it, he couldn’t picture anything else. The view was stunning as Yamazaki turned by the hood of the car and waited. Makoto ran to him. Yamazaki opened the door for him and waved him inside, and then he placed their briefcases by Makoto’s feet. “Good?” he asked, examining the brunet’s foot space.

“Oh- perfect,” Makoto breathed out. He wiggled his feet to assure the driver, nodding. Yamazaki closed the door and walked around the car. He slid in with such ease and poise; Makoto couldn’t look anywhere else but his profile as he started the car and slipped it into drive, pulling out of the garage and into the mostly empty street. He drove in silence, Makoto staring obnoxiously at him, but he was so lost in the man that he didn’t realize it. 

Teal eyes glanced at him for just a moment, and Yamazaki turned back with a private smirk at his lips. He left hand slid from the wheel and he slowly slid it over Makoto’s thigh, settling it just in the crook of his groin, nestled between his legs. Makoto sighed and then yelped in realization. He opened his mouth to say something, but Yamazaki murmured in that sultry voice of his, “Like what you see?”

Makoto’s eyes flew back to Yamazaki’s face, all too conscious now of the hand between his thighs, the pinky pressing so close to his cock, and Yamazaki’s smirking profile. “Yes,” he breathed out without thinking. “I do.”

Yamazaki chuckled, and the sound slid down Makoto’s spine, settled warmth in his tummy, and he leaned closer to the man, breathing slowly. When would this all end? He wanted to savor every moment while he still could. 

Yamazaki had a fantastically strong jaw, his skin smooth over the harsh angles of his face. It was a soft, soft tan color, darker than Makoto’s own. Makoto had never seen stubble growing on the man’s face until now, but he never saw him this late either. It was really attractive, and he wanted to rough his palm against it. Yamazaki’s nose was a work of art too, a little blocky at the tip where it stick out from the straight line of his bridge, and his lashes were long. His eyes were mesmerizing as they changed colors under the flashing streetlights. At moments they were clear aqua like sea glass, and other times dark turquoise like the ocean at night. Makoto absentmindedly licked at his lips as his eyes slid down to Yamazaki’s. Perfect, just the right amount of fullness for a man. His own felt thick and feminine now as he pressed them together. He wanted to kiss Yamazaki to know what the two felt like together. He wanted to taste him. 

Yamazaki’s GPS chirped and Makoto was shocked out of his trance. He stared up at his looming apartment building and felt pure dread slip cold over him. Now he had to leave and go home to his empty apartment. He coughed dryly, mind racing to think of something to say to extend the time. Yamazaki parked his car and waited. 

Makoto grabbed for his briefcase, but Yamazaki’s hand didn’t pull away from his thigh. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was because Yamazaki didn’t want him to leave either. He slowly raised his gaze to the man, who was watching him with an unreadable expression, eyes dark in the low light. 

“Thank you...” choked out Makoto, unsure of what to even say. His thighs pressed together for a moment; Yamazaki’s fingers flexed between them and he shivered. Then he was looking back up at his insanely, unfairly handsome boss, and the words came before he could think, before he could realize what a bad decision it was. 

“I’m in love with you.”

Yamazaki just blinked, slow, watched as Makoto turned white in horror. He choked out an awkward cry of embarrassment and startled back in the car. His spine slammed against the handle on the door and he cried out in pain and shock. He turned roughly to inspect the offending item, forgetting for a moment that he needed to pull away, to go. When he turned back, Yamazaki was mere inches from his face, and his green eyes went wide and his face red. 

“No-!” he squawked, and he scrambled for the door handle, opening the door and stumbling out. “Bye!” he hushed frantically, and then he ran. He could still feel the man’s warmth between his thighs, close to his face. He collapsed inside his apartment and just sat there, shaking. 

When he felt a little less like sinking into the floor and disappearing, he crawled to his window and peered out to the parking lot below. Yamazaki’s car still sat there, black and silent as night. He slowly pulled his phone out and thought maybe he should have invited his boss up for a drink, should have thanked him for the ride at least. 

He sat debating, and then he watched the car slowly pull out and away, the pit in his stomach growing. He dragged himself to bed, curled up under his comforter and slipped into something closer to comatose than sleep. 

x

The morning came to Makoto before he was ready, his eyes crunchy from tears shed and his body unbelievably achy. He gingerly sat up and felt a stirring in his ass. With vivid detail, he remembered last night. He hugged his body and wished for Yamazaki’s warmth, wished to become one with the core of the earth so he never had to face the man and his embarrassments again. 

He’d actually... confessed last night. What a stupid, stupid, god-awful thing to do. The man was his boss. Thankfully it was the weekend, but Monday would come, and with it his inevitable meeting again with Yamazaki. 

He thought of apologizing, of saying to forget it, but eventually he just settled on a thank you. He picked up his phone and unlocked it, blinked down in confusion at the email notification. It was from Yamazaki, sent late last night, but it was about work. Makoto glanced at the time stamp and couldn’t believe his eyes. 4 in the morning. Had Yamazaki been awake that long or did he wake up that early? Had he felt restless or was he just a slave driver?

At the bottom of the email was a small note. _I’ll see you in the office Monday, Makoto._ a threat? A simple greeting? Something more...? Makoto swallowed roughly and tucked his thank you away for later, needing to be more clear-headed before he interacted with the man again. 

He walked slowly to his bathroom and filled the tub with steaming water; he slipped out of his clothes from yesterday and slid into the water. It was like a warm hug, reminding him of Yamazaki’s chest and arms, and his ass throbbed. Was there still cum inside? He knew he should clean it properly either way, but his fingers halted just at his entrance and he shivered violently. His cock was already hard. He bemoaned the sight. And then he tried desperately not to think of Yamazaki as he slipped a finger inside. 

It was impossible. The man resurfaced in his mind’s eye with every push and hook of his fingers. He was just cleaning himself out, but his cock was betraying him, hard and leaky in the warm water. He turned his head and shivered against the cool porcelain, trying to maintain his sanity, but it was far too late. His mind went back and forth, but finally, he gave in and gripped at his painful erection, punishingly rubbed at it. His body trembled in the water. He wasn’t getting there fast enough. 

It seemed to drag on for hours, though he was sure it was only minutes. The water cooled slowly against his skin. Finally he turned violently in the tub and grabbed over the side, grabbed at his shirt. He pressed the collar to his face and searched for Yamazaki’s scent there. It was faint, but the moment it hit his nose, his whole body went hot with an orgasm. Shamefully, he came against the side of his tub, and he sank down in the water, feeling terrible. He quickly washed himself and then watched the damning evidence swirl down the drain. The warmth of his orgasm lingered with him. He sunk to his knees and grabbed his phone. 

_Thank you._ he typed simply. Vague. He sent it before he could change his mind. And then he crawled to his couch in his newly donned sweats and sweater and curled up under a blanket, a cocoon, resigned to mindless hours of random tv. 

x

Monday morning came like it always did, and Makoto found himself, legs shaking, riding the train and begging for it to go faster so he could cry in the bathroom before facing Yamazaki. He’d spent the morning debating calling in sick, but he also knew he couldn’t do that forever, and maybe it was better to just get it over with. 

He’d made a mistake, and he wished with all of his might he hadn’t run out of the car so he could hear an answer, or that he hadn’t said anything at all. Over the past three days, Makoto had convinced himself Yamazaki didn’t feel that way about him, and now he was just waiting for the rejection, praying it would be merciful and let him down easy.

“Good... morning-“ he whispered to the secretary once he stepped off the elevator. She turned her face up and greeted him with a smile. 

“I think Yamazaki-san is rearranging furniture in there,” Miho said with an apologetic wince.

Makoto froze in his tracks and swallowed hard. “He’s angry?”

All she did was nod. “Want me to go in with you for moral support?”

He considered it for a second, but then he turned to face the door and shook his head. Maybe if he got fired, the awkwardness could all be avoided... He walked forward with trembling hands and his head held high. 

“G-good mor-“

The rest of the word didn’t come out, though he’d started off way too quiet to be noticed anyways. Yamazaki sat slumped over in his chair, head in his hands and elbows on his knee, the most fearsome expression on his face. It froze Makoto. Yamazaki didn’t notice him at all. 

“That’s absolutely unacceptable, and you know that!” Yamazaki yelled into the phone at his ear. “I asked for this months ago and you’re telling me now that you still haven’t finished it, let alone even started?!”

Makoto pressed his back against the door and swallowed hard. Maybe if he made a hard left and retreated to his desk, he would be safe. A quick glance to the side told him that wasn’t happening. Miho hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said he was moving furniture. Yamazaki’s desk had moved over a bit on the shag rug, and Makoto’s desk sat perpendicular to it now. There was no way he could get to his chair without Yamazaki seeing him, so he stood frozen.

But why had his desk moved? To keep a closer eye on him? Maybe so he could pass notes instead of speaking to Makoto? But he could have done that with emails, and he wasn’t 5. Makoto shook his head and stared wide eyed at his desk and Yamazaki as the man continued to yell into the phone. Finally, he slammed the handset down after one last threat, and Makoto prepared to face the man’s wrath.

Yamazaki turned and for the first time saw Makoto. He practically jumped out of his chair and yelled the other’s name. Makoto unfroze, his throat suddenly parched and he shuffled forward. He stepped first to his desk, and then to the edge, facing Yamazaki. The man just watched him, the fire still in his eyes from his last conversation. And then he saw the way Makoto’s hands trembled and how he was trying so hard to maintain eye contact, and he turned away and scrubbed at his eyes. 

“Sorry you had to hear that,” he roughed out, like he wasn’t used to apologies. 

“No-“ choked Makoto back, bewildered by the sudden change. He’d been expecting Yamazaki to project his anger towards him, maybe even use it as fuel towards the stupid confession, but instead he seemed to go meek and quiet, and that scared Makoto more than the anger. 

“Yamazaki, sir?” He croaked out.

Yamazaki turned to him with his striking teal eyes and let out a laugh. “Won’t you call me Sousuke already?”

Makoto blinked. Now he really wondered what had happened, and the question came out before he could think better of it. “What’s wrong with you today, sir?”

Yamazaki saw that Makoto realized that was the wrong thing to say the moment he said it; his eyes went mega wide and his lips gasped open and closed like a fish out of water. 

“Uhm, no- I mean-“

But Yamazaki just tossed his head back and laughed. He laughed for a full minute, and then he went quickly sober. He sat down and motioned Makoto over. Stiff legs carried him to the man, and Yamazaki pulled him closer by hand, his fingers holding Makoto’s like he was scared the other might break. Then he looked up at Makoto and said, “I just didn’t want to jump back into our norm; I thought that maybe you don’t like it after all.”

Makoto balked. “What would give you that impression?” he asked dumbly. Had he ever given a sign that something was bad about their relationship? 

“Well, I went too far the other night, maybe.” Yamazaki lowered his head and it was unnerving to see. Makoto tried to pull away from this man he didn’t know at all, but Yamazaki held him tight. He swallowed roughly. If he knew how Yamazaki felt about him, it would be different, but deviating from the norm now without addressing the elephant in the room first was foreign and set Makoto’s hairs on edge. 

“No, sir, you didn’t,” he managed in the smallest voice.

Yamazaki looked up and laughed. “But now you’re scared of me, and a good dom should never-“

“I’m scared of you because you’re being weird!” Makoto yelped our, slapping a hand over his mouth as he bit back tears. Yamazaki blinked up at him. 

“I thought I was being nice...”

_You are, and that’s the problem! Because I don’t understand why... why now?_

Maybe his eyes betrayed his thoughts, because Yamazaki straightened up. He coughed and his whole demeanor shifted into something way more familiar. He yanked Makoto into his lap and set his teeth to his pale neck. 

“I need some stress relief,” he growled softly. 

Makoto shivered in relief and whispered, “Yes, sir.” Confusion melted away into happiness, the normality comforting him. 

Yamazaki blinked up at him and then breathed out, hot and low, “Okay, then.”

He pulled the other into his lap, Makoto’s calves sinking down on either side of his thighs, and it was a good thing Yamazaki had such a large chair. He pulled his hands back, elbows on his chair arms, fingers pressed together in a steeple under his chin. 

“Let me see what your hands can do, Makoto.”

Under Yamazaki’s weighty gaze, Makoto nodded and unzipped slacks, fingers digging inside and around a prize package. He gasped slowly when he felt that Yamazaki was already semi-hard. He licked his lips; he wanted to see his cock again. ...But was taking it out okay? He glanced upwards at the man, who was just watching him with an unreadable expression, just watching like he was in a business meeting. Gathering data. It was equally unnerving and hot. Makoto swallowed when Yamazaki gave him no refusals, and he reached inside silky boxer briefs. He was released with a little tug and Makoto gasped, heat rushing his gut, his own cock responding in his pants. 

Then he looked up fully and held his palms out with a slow nod to Yamazaki. Teal eyes watched him for a long moment, until finally the man took his hand, pulled it to his mouth and ran his wet tongue sloppily over it, his eyes never leaving Makoto. He did the same to the other palm, still watching. Makoto shivered heatedly under the gaze. And then he lowered his hands and slicked them over Yamazaki’s cock. Makoto’s eyes slammed down to it; somewhere between him releasing Yamazaki’s dick and coming back to it, the man had gotten fully hard. He wanted to look up and see his face, but he was roughly pulled forward by the back of his neck, his collar forced open, and teeth sank into the crook of his neck. He breathed out a hot, ragged breath, savored the pain of teeth at his skin, digging in, leaving marks. His hands began to move. 

Yamazaki was unbelievably hot and very big. He’d seen it before, but he couldn’t believe this had been in his ass. It was huge, but still, his ass twitched greedily in memory. In his own slacks, he grew stiff and wet. 

Yamazaki slowly unbuttoned the other’s shirt, tossed his tie aside. He skirted the thing off Makoto’s shoulders until his chest was bare, and he scraped his teeth down to his collar bone, to his nipples. Makoto inhaled sharply when teeth tugged at his nub. He nearly fell back as a wave of pleasure hit him, but Yamazaki wrapped a solid arm around his waist, hand on his ass to hold him in place, pull him closer. Makoto was aching in his slacks, the only friction he had was from the fabric against his crotch whenever he bucked his hips slightly up. And then there were hands at his belt buckle and pants button, slacks opening to offer relief from the tightness, and Makoto’s hands sputtered to a halt. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” growled Yamazaki, and Makoto mewled. 

“N-no, sir,” he whimpered out. But if he thought the man was going to reciprocate his actions, he was wrong. A drawer opened and lube was retrieved. Makoto started his hands up again, but he was distracted by the pull of his pants and lace-y underwear down his ass, by the slick of lube and fingers. He had to bite down on his lip when a sudden yelp choked out of his throat. Two fingers pushed into his ass with no kind of preparation, and his cock thumped against his crotch. He sank down against Yamazaki lap with a high whine. Teeth gripped around his nipple again, and his hands jerked the man off in a shaky rhythm. 

Fingers spread his ass quickly, no mercy shown, and suddenly Makoto was being pulled off, roughed around. A hand fisted into his brown hair and shoved his face into the desk before him, and he shut his eyes at the blessed sting of the tug on his hair follicles. He hiccuped out a whine, breathed in a sharp inhale of air. Yamazaki pressed over him with all of his weight, his cock sliding into Makoto without even a simple greeting. Makoto’s hands flew to the edge of the desk and he sobbed into the cool top. 

“Yamazaki-san!” he sobbed, trying to keep his voice down, making it go high and strained. Yamazaki’s cock twitched in his ass and the man leaned over him into his ear.

“Call me Sousuke, Makoto,” he demanded in the lowest, sexiest voice. 

Makoto tried to form his mouth around the name, but he couldn’t. He gasped as his cock snapped to and fro in the cool air. He wanted to reach for it, but he could barely hold on to the desk to keep from slamming into it as Yamazaki pounded his ass. His strong arms caged Makoto in, and in a desperate attempt, he gripped at his boss’s wrists to keep him in place. 

“Makoto,” growled Yamazaki in his ear.

“Sorry-!” sobbed Makoto, but his boss was already talking again. 

“Do what I say.”

“S-so-“ he gasped out. Each sound sent his ass tightening around the hot intrusion. He shivered. “Sou- suke-!”

Yamazaki growled behind him as Makoto’s ass went into a vice grip, as he sank in deep and was stuck there. ”Makoto, loosen... up-“ he hissed out, but Makoto shook his head and sobbed. He had no control over it at all. He gasped and tried to breathe, but all he could hear was his own voice calling that name. 

Yamazaki leaned fully over him again, arms bending, hands turning to grip at Makoto’s slim wrists. “Makoto~” he sang seductively into his ear. 

Makoto crooned, and Yamazaki called his name again. 

“Don’t-“ whimpered the brunet. It was too close to his ear, to intimate. 

“Call my name again,” Yamazaki breathed out. 

“Sou-suke...” he choked out, his whole body going taut and Yamazaki groaning in his ear. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“Sorry, Sousuke-“ he sobbed out, and then he was crying. Yamazaki pulled away and thrust his hips again, his cock slamming into Makoto’s good spot. He choked out a cry, tears pooling under his hot face on the desk. He was making a mess, but he couldn’t stop crying. This was too much. It was a bad idea.

But he couldn’t choke out his safe word, even as his heart broke, as he thought, _Is this it?_

He wanted Yamazaki’s warmth, he wanted his passion and anger, but it all felt like it was choking him as his confession, his feelings loomed large and threatening over his head. He was insanely in love with Yamazaki Sousuke, but what was the point if this was all he was ever going to get from the man? Every thrust was a shovelful of dirt gone as Makoto dug his grave. He was falling hopelessly more in love with every second that passed, and this was the cruelest thing Yamazaki had ever done to him. 

Yamazaki noticed his tears, laughed at first, but when Makoto’s lips twisted together in a broken expression, he went suddenly still. His hands fell away from Makoto’s wrists and he pulled slowly out like he was stumbling backwards. Makoto heard his chair accept his weight, and all he could do was lay there and sob, ass exposed and winking, cock trembling with the sudden loss of stimuli. He pulled his stiff arms to his face and sobbed into his hands. 

“Shit, fuck,” he heard Yamazaki curse behind him. 

This wasn’t what he wanted either. He couldn’t breathe without Yamazaki close to him. So he pulled himself up, face a mess of red and tears and snot. He turned blindly and through his tears he could see Yamazaki. The man was staring blankly at nothing, face distraught, eyes unseeing. Makoto crawled into his lap again and pulled his limp arms around his waist. He sank into Yamazaki’s neck, his hands desperately working behind him. 

Yamazaki was getting softer by the minute, but Makoto needed him. He keened against the man’s neck, stroked at his wet cock. He pressed his lips to Yamazaki’s neck and crooned out his name between sobs. 

And then he lined up his hips and sank down on Yamazaki again. It was an instant reaction. His cock twitched to life and his face turned harshly forward. His eyes were wide as he stared at Makoto, as his hands tightened around his hips. Makoto shifted up and then back down, and he sighed shakily through his tears. His hands now free, he wiped them on his pants and then curled them around Yamazaki’s neck. He cried against his neck, quietly, just tears falling now as he kissed at his boss’s soft skin. 

Yamazaki just held him, speechless. 

The contact was exactly what Makoto needed. It was warmth with no demands behind it, and though his heart was breaking painfully, he continued the movement of his hips. He wanted his last memory of this place to be Yamazaki’s voice in his ear as he filled Makoto’s ass with his release. 

It came almost too soon, the two sinking wholly into the pleasures, and Makoto came with a choked cry, his ass tightening around Sousuke. Fingers dug into his sides as the man hugged him closer, as he released with a lovely sigh into Makoto. 

And then Makoto pulled away silently and began gathering his clothes. His pants were a mess, but he just had to get home, and hopefully there would be no one on the trains. He could feel Yamazaki watching him, saw him slowly zip up his pants as he stared at Makoto. 

“Where are you going?” he finally choked out, trying to sound commanding, but they were way past that now. Makoto turned to him and smiled warmly, his face cracking a little with all the tears he’d shed and had dried on his skin. 

“I think it’s best if this is my last day, don’t you think? I was never a very good assistant, and I think with this, it proves that I can’t even help you with the only task you ever gave me.” He raised his hands, trying to act nonchalant, trying not to fall apart. He packed up the few things on his desk into his briefcase, pulled on his clothes and jacket. 

“What happened?” Sousuke mumbled, confused, more to himself than anything else. “Where did it go wrong?”

Makoto turned to him again and offered the smallest smile. “This was all my fault, sir. I developed feelings, and I let them take control. I should have never-“ But he couldn’t say it, because somewhere in his heart he was glad that he’d confessed. He gripped a fist to his chest and then turned to walk away with one last apology. 

He opened the door and prepared to face the secretary, but a hand came from behind him like an arrow and slammed the door shut in his face. There was warmth against his back and Yamazaki was breathing heavily against his hair. Makoto shook his head, ready to say what he needed to to get out of there. It was stifling, his feelings right there at his lips. He’d burst if this went on any longer.

“Don’t leave,” Yamazaki husked finally, and Makoto’s head froze. He shut his eyes tight and pressed his lips together. 

_Please just let me go, Sousuke. I’m so in love with you that it’s breaking my heart._

“I didn’t think... you’d meant it.”

 _Meant what...?_ Makoto’s mind stuttered. Meant that he was leaving? Meant his goodbye? 

“I didn’t think you were actually... falling in love...”

Makoto’s heart slammed up into his throat and then back down as Yamazaki hissed, “Shit.”

Makoto had to say something now.

“You don’t have to worry about it. If you just let me leave, you can forget all about i-“

Rough hands turned him around, Yamazaki’s wild eyes glancing around them like he just now was noting their location. He pulled Makoto back, stumbled backwards with him until his thighs hit his desk and he pulled Makoto into his chest, into a tight hug. 

“Don’t leave,” he said again. 

“Not when I’m falling in love with you, too.”

Makoto’s mind hadn’t heard that right. He hadn’t registered it at all, in fact. He was still trying to push away from Yamazaki, trying to hold in the tears. 

And then his mind hiccuped and it clicked, and he froze. Tears, unstoppable now, spilled forth into Yamazaki’s expensive cotton shirt. 

“Don’t joke...” he sobbed out, trying to sound light hearted. 

His heart flew out of his chest and waved him goodbye as Yamazaki pressed just a soft kiss to the edge of his ear. 

“I’m not joking,” the man husked out, raw, vulnerable. This was not the man Makoto knew, but it didn’t matter, because he was only falling in love more. 

“Please don’t-“ Makoto sobbed. “Don’t tease me-“

Sousuke cursed again, a desperate, frustrated thing. “Makoto- Please... believe me....”

“How?” sobbed the other. Then he laughed, a confused thing between his crying. “Why?”

Yamazaki grabbed under his legs and pulled him up against himself, slid back so he was sitting on his desk, Makoto in his lap. He held him tightly. 

“Why not?” was all he whispered back. Makoto clutched at his shirt and broke. His whole body shook violently with sobs, and his tears soaked his boss’s shirt. His mouth opened to say words, but instead only deep, guttural cries broke out. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he begged. 

Yamazaki chuckled warmly in his ear. He was loosening up, growing warm. His heart beat steady in his chest, and Makoto listened to it to try to calm himself down. 

He slowly sat back and turned his face away, hiding the red, swollen thing behind shaky hands. 

“You could have said something much sooner,” he whispered. 

“Yeah,” said Sousuke. “I should have told you right away.”

“You’re a terrible idiot.”

“Yup.”

“You just did whatever you wanted.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t even ask me-“

“Sorry.”

Makoto dropped his hands down; he didn’t care anymore. He turned to face Yamazaki, watched the man drink in his appearance, not even reacting save for the small, warm smile that tugged up the corners of his lips. His eyes went warm and liquid as he just looked at Makoto. 

“You’re too perfect,” he spoke now with warmth in his voice. Yamazaki, no, Sousuke looked ready to agree again, but his eyebrows shifted together as he processed Makoto’s words. This soft man before him now was Sousuke, so different than the boss Yamazaki he’d known; they felt different in his mind, but his heart accepted them both with the same loving affection. They were both sides of the same man he loved. 

“You’re so damn handsome and you so easily stole my heart. Everything you did was exactly what I wanted; I’ve been looking for a man like you for all of my life, but I never imagined he’d be as wonderful as you.” Makoto sighed then, frowned. “And seriously, how can you be so fucking gorgeous all the time? It’s not even fair! It makes guys like us feel so inferior!”

Sousuke breathed in sharply then, eyes focusing on Makoto, heat stirring again. “But you’re so beautiful, Makoto.”

He said it without even blinking, like he could lie so easily. Makoto wanted to laugh it off, but the sound stuck in his throat. Sousuke’s eyes lit him on fire, his heart coming alive. 

“Don’t-“

Sousuke shook his head, tired of Makoto telling him what he couldn’t say. “Makoto, do you not realize how attractive you are? You’re stunning. You light up the room, and you smile like an angel.” He laughed then. “God, it’s fucking cheesy, but seriously, you’re... breathtaking.”

Makoto scrubbed at his face, suddenly ashamed to be seen like this if he’d fooled Yamazaki before into thinking he was any kind of handsome. But Sousuke was quick to pull his hands away, smiling. 

“Even like this...” the man breathed out slowly, reverently. 

Makoto had denials ready on his lips, but instead he wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s neck and pressed his lips together. Then he sighed, the battle lost, and smiled. 

“I love you, Sousuke,” he said so softly. 

The other heard him, though, and he smiled. “Say it again, baby.”

Makoto giggled at the pet name. “Really?” he asked, but he couldn’t even pretend like he didn’t love it. “I love you so much, Sousuke~”

Yamazaki let out a long, deep sigh. A large hand pressed to Makoto’s back, the other still wrapped tight around his waist. With eyes like the sea, beautiful and steady, Yamazaki said, “I love you, Makoto.”

His face went red and he sputtered over incredulity, but there was no denying it when he said it like that. 

“Love you, baby doll,” Sousuke crooned sweetly as he nuzzled up into Makoto’s neck. He placed kisses there, sucked roughly at Makoto’s Adam’s apple. The brunet breathed out a rough, shaky thing. He clutched Sousuke tighter. 

“Sousuke...” 

“Hmm?”

“Are you still going to... be my boss?”

“I’m not letting you quit,” he said as he pulled back, and then he saw Makoto fidgeting with his shirt buttons, noticed how his cheeks were red and he was biting at his lip. His eyes pooled with heat as he looked up at Sousuke. He asked again, more steady now, his voice dropping into heat. “Are you still going to be my boss, sir?”

Yamazaki pressed his lips together, then gave a smug smirk. He leaned back and fished blindly in the top drawer of his desk. He pulled out something leather, a thin strap with a buckle at the end, a small tag that clicked. Makoto remembered it from before, remembered feeling it right around his neck, cutting off his air. Sousuke slipped it silently around Makoto’s neck, closed it on one of the tightest settings. Makoto inhaled a rough breath. The small tag tapped cold against his skin. It was tight and warm around his skin, a different feeling of breathlessness than before. 

Yamazaki sat back on his hands and smirked up at Makoto, as he fingered at the leather collar around his neck. 

“We’re going to have lots more fun together, from now on,” he sang darkly, smiling so assuredly at his prize. Makoto nodded his head slowly, dipping his head down to hide his smile. He clutched gently at the bottom of Yamazaki’s shirt. 

“I’ll always be yours now, sir.”

Sousuke crooned and hummed, “Good boy.”

Makoto shut his eyes and preened. 

x

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but Makoto had learned over the past few months that even a text from Sousuke was not just a light suggestion. He’d woken up to the text early that morning, and he’d spent the whole time in wild anticipation on the train, on the walk to the office. He knew he wasn’t the first to arrive, but there was no one in the office to greet him. Maybe that was better, he thought as he snuck inside. 

In bated breath, he prepared himself. His clothes fell off of his skin and he shivered as he looked out of the large windows before him at the city below. Out of the top drawer, he slipped the leather collar, fingering at the small heart charm with his name etched on it. He tightened it around his neck and then pulled himself up on Sousuke’s desk, trying to find a seductive position, but that was hard when you were butt naked. 

He almost thought he’d found something when he heard Sousuke’s voice, heard the door to the office open behind him. He rolled his head over his shoulder and smiled, but then his eyes went wide and he yelped. He was already scrambling off the desk at the sight of Miho behind him, right on his heels, when Sousuke barked out, “Stay.”

He had no choice. He was butt naked, only a collar on, on his boss’s desk, and his secretary’s eyes were slowly growing wide as she took everything in. But Sousuke was still walking and she was automatically just following him. Makoto turned away and went bright red, his cock unapologetically rising in his lap. He glared down at it but it paid him no mind. Sousuke’s voice rolled over his body, as he talked like nothing was wrong, as he slid into his chair. His eyes did one quick glance over Makoto, and then he turned uninterrupted back to his secretary. Makoto couldn’t look, but he imagined her eyes were wide still, trying not to look at Makoto, but still he could feel her eyes shifting back to him every now and then. 

Sousuke placed a hand against Makoto’s thigh and smirked as she tried to speak, stumbling over her words. His smile was saying, “Isn’t he handsome? He’s mine. Get used to seeing this.”

Makoto shivered at the possessiveness in his boss’s eyes. He gripped at the hand on his leg and whimpered quietly. In the window he could see Miho’s eyes slide away, catching sight of Makoto in the reflection instead. She choked on her words when she saw his erection, as she went beet red, as Sousuke just smirked proudly at her. 

She finished what she had to say and stumbled out of the office, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

Sousuke turned to Makoto finally with a beaming smile, and Makoto whined out, “Sousuke~”, horny beyond belief.

The taller man leaned forward. “What was that?” he whispered in that low voice of his, and Makoto whimpered.

“Yamazaki-san...”

The other smirked as he gripped at Makoto’s thigh. “Good,” he commented as his eyes slowly dragged over Makoto’s naked body. His eyes grew hot and lusty, burning holes as they dragged over Makoto’s bare skin. He shivered with ravenous want. 

And then he thought about Miho and blushed bright red. He leaned in towards Sousuke and whispered, “But she saw us-!”

Yamazaki just sat back in his office chair and smirked. “Good,” he said again, grinning as he watched Makoto’s eyes go wide. 

“But-!”

“I’m proud to call you mine, and I want everyone to know that you belong completely to me,” he said simply, like he hadn’t just said something ridiculous and embarrassing. Makoto pressed his lips together and burned. His lips trembled as he tried to keep his wide smile at bay. He covered his face and giggled when he couldn’t contain it anymore. 

Hands gripped at his knees and he looked between his fingers, Sousuke leering forward, that fire in his eyes again. “Now let me see what belongs to me.”

Makoto spread his legs slowly and whimpered as he sank forward against Sousuke’s shoulder. Lips pressed around his nipple and then teeth gnawed at his nub, and he mewled with wanton desire. 

Below him, a drawer rattled, items moving around as Sousuke searched blindly. There was a happy grunt against Makoto’s skin, Sousuke’s hand retreating from inside the drawer.

“Makoto,” called Sousuke seductively. “Raise your ass for me.”

Makoto shifted on the desk, his hands griping lightly at Yamazaki’s broad shoulders as he slowly sat up. He’d prepped himself beforehand like the text had demanded, so when the silicone butt plug pressed to his entrance, it slid in easily. 

A high moan left Makoto’s throat and he plopped back down to the desk with a shudder. Yamazaki simply watched him. The vibrator clicked to life and Makoto purred.

Sousuke chuckled as he reached back again and pulled something forward, draped it over Makoto’s quivering thigh. Then he reached back into the drawer and pulled out a headband to place atop Makoto’s hair. 

In wide eyed surprise, Makoto stared down at the fake cat tail draped over his leg, attached to the plug in his ass. He felt a hand up at the small pointed ear perched atop his head. Then he glanced up over the desk chair and at his reflection in the glass windows. The ears blended in so well, the same light brown color as his hair. 

His eyes traveled back down to Yamazaki, heat shimmering in them as he licked slowly at his lips. A mewl rumbled slowly from his chest and over his tongue. Sousuke sat back, pressing a hand over his mouth as he watched Makoto. 

And then, like there was nothing distracting about Makoto at all, he leaned forward, arms on either side on his sub’s legs, and began working at his computer. Makoto shivered and froze, the warmth at his side welcome, the sinking revelation that today he would just sit there like this, and he curled up against Sousuke, pressed his face into his boss’s neck and smiled proudly. 

He was so happy.


End file.
